On the day of Towton's field, The carnage and the ill-spilt blood That forty thousand lives could yield. Cressy was to this but sport,— Poictiers but a pageant vain; And the victory of Spain Seem'd a strife for pastime meant, And the work of Agincourt Only like a tournament; Half the blood which there was spent Had sufficed again to gain Thou, Elizabeth, art here; Thou to whom all griefs were known; In happier hour than on the throne. And favour'd in their lot are they But thou, Seymour, with a greeting, Like in loveliness were ye, Henry, too, hath here his part; The ashes of that fiery heart. Shall our Charlotte's soul inherit; No, by Fisher's hoary head, By More, the learned and the good, By Katharine's wrongs and Boleyn's blood,By the life so basely shed Of the pride of Norfolk's line, By the axe so often red, By the fire with martyrs fed, And here lies one whose tragic name That murder'd Monarch, whom the grave, Ye whose relics rest around, Long, through evil and through good, Of peace, in battle twice achieved; And Europe from the yoke reliev'd, One who reverently, for thee, THE HOLLY TREE. I. O Reader! hast thou ever stood to see The Holly Tree? The eye that contemplates it well perceives Its glossy leaves Order'd by an intelligence so wise, As might confound the Atheist's sophistries. 2. Below, a circling fence, its leaves are seen No grazing cattle through their prickly round But as they grow where nothing is to fear, 3. I love to view these things with curious eyes, And in this wisdom of the Holly Tree Wherewith perchance to make a pleasant rhyme, 4. Thus, though abroad perchance I might appear Harsh and austere, To those who on my leisure would intrude Reserved and rude, Gentle at home amid my friends I'd be 5. And should my youth, as youth is apt I know, Some harshness show, All vain asperities I day by day Would wear away, Till the smooth temper of my age should be 6. And as when all the summer trees are seen The Holly leaves a sober hue display Less bright than they, But when the bare and wintry woods we see, 7. So serious should my youth appear among So would I seem amid the young and gay That in my age as cheerful I might be THE BATTLE OF BLENHEIM. I. It was a summer evening, Old Kaspar's work was done, And by him sported on the green 2. She saw her brother Peterkin Roll something large and round, In playing there had found; He came to ask what he had found, 3. Old Kaspar took it from the boy, Who stood expectant by; And then the old man shook his head, And with a natural sigh, "Tis some poor fellow's skull,' said he, 'Who fell in the great victory. 4. 'I find them in the garden, For there's many here about; The ploughshare turns them out! |