POETRY.
AT MALPLAQUET.
t" The bottle of Malplaquet " (September 11th, 1709) "one of the bloodiest ever fought by mortal men. Little is known of the details of the fighting, these being swallowed up in the shades of the forest —All that is certain is that neither side gave quarter, and that the combat was not only fierce but savage." —" A History of the British Army," by the Hon. J. W. Fortesoue, Vol. L. p. 52,S.3
Pr is very still and cold in the wood, In the wood by Blaregnies, But the smell of the earth is rich and good, And the grass grows strong and free.
Beyond and away on the slanting field, Where the lily banners blew,
Where the gay Guards broke and the "Household"
reeled, And the scarlet horse drove through, The labourer sings in the fallow ways, And the tinkling streamlets run, And the face of the land is all ablaze With the brave September sun.
But here in the wood it is still and cold, In the wood by Blaregnies,
And the silent dead deep under the mould, How still and how cold they be!
Oh! pray for the souls of them that are not, Tread soft in the tangled brake, And down in the dell where the red leaves rob Speak low for the dead men's sake;
For the dead men's sake that grappled, and swayed,.
And stumbled, and stabbed, and slashed Over fosse and fence, through thicket and glade, While the round balls ripped and crashed, Till the tall trees rocked in the tortured air, And the leaves fell parched and sere, And the timid creatures that harboured there Fled forth in a panic fear; And nobody knows if the deeds they did Were fitter for praise or blame ; The splendour of valour itself was hid, And the nameless things of shame.
There were those that whimpered and those that cursed, There were those that prayed to die, And the frenzied laugh, and the moan of thirst, And the scream of agony, In a myriad murmur of pains and fears, From the dark grove rose and fell, As calls to the sorrowing angels' ears The sob of the sea of hell.
There was blood in the ruts of trampled mud, There was blood on root and bOugh, And coppice and covert ran red with blood,7- They are green and glossy now.
It is very still and cold in the wood, In the wood by Blaregnies, - But the smell of the earth is rich and good, And the grass grows strong and _free.
FRANK TAYLOR.
Previous page
