Men are we, and must grieve when even the Shade

Of that which once was great is passed away.

Thought of a Briton on the Subjugation of
Switzerland

Two voices are there; one is of the sea,
One of the mountains; each a mighty voice:
In both from age to age thou didst rejoice,
They were thy chosen music, Liberty!
There came a tryant, and with holy glee
Thou fought'st against him; but hast vainly
striven:

Thou from thy Alpine holds at length art driven,

Where not a torrent murmurs heard by thee. Of one deep bliss thine ear hath been bereft: Then cleave, O cleave to that which still is left;

For, high-souled Maid, what sorrow would it be

That mountain floods should thunder as before,

And ocean bellow from his rocky shore, And neither awful voice be heard by thee.

September, 1802, Near Dover

Inland, within a hollow vale, I stood; And saw, while sea was calm and air was clear,

The coast of France- the coast of France how near!

Drawn almost into frightful neighborhood.
I shrunk; for verily the barrier flood
Was like a lake, or river bright and fair,
A span of waters; yet what power is there!
What mightiness for evil and for good!
Even so doth God protect us if we be
Virtuous and wise. Winds blow, and waters
roll,

Strength to the brave, and Power, and
Deity;

Yet in themselves are nothing! One decree Spake laws to them, and said that by the soul

Only, the nations shall be great and free.

Written in London, September, 18021

O Friend! I know not which way I must look

For comfort, being, as I am, opprest,

1 Written just after Wordsworth's return from France, this sonnet expresses the poet's sense of the contrast between the desolation produced by the Revolution in France and the unwholesome peace of England.

To think that now our life is only drest For show; mean handiwork of craftsman, cook,

Or groom!-we must run glittering like a brook

In the open sunshine, or we are unblest:
The wealthiest man among us is the best;
No grandeur now in nature or in book
Delights us. Rapine, avarice, expense,
This is idolatry; and these we adore:
Plain living and high thinking are no more;
The homely beauty of the good old cause
Is gone; our peace, our fearful innocence,
And pure religion breathing household laws.

"Milton! Thou Shouldst Be Living at This Hour"

Milton! thou shouldst be living at this hour:

England hath need of thee; she is a fen
Of stagnant waters; altar, sword, and pen,
Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and

bower,

Have forfeited their ancient English dower
Of inward happiness. We are selfish men;
Oh! raise us up, return to us again;
And give us manners, virtue, freedom,

power.

Thy soul was like a Star, and dwelt apart; Thou hadst a voice whose sound was like the sea;

Pure as the naked heavens, majestic, free,
So didst thou travel on life's common way,
In cheerful godliness; and yet thy heart
The lowliest duties on herself did lay.

"It Is Not to Be Thought of"

It is not to be thought of that the Flood
Of British freedom, which, to the open sea
Of the world's praise, from dark antiquity
Hath flowed, "with pomp of waters unwith-
stood,"

Roused though it be full often to a mood
Which spurns the check of salutary bands,
That this most famous Stream in bogs and
sands

Should perish; and to evil and to good
Be lost forever. In our halls is hung
Armory of the invincible knights of old:
We must be free or die, who speak the
tongue

That Shakespeare spake: the faith and morals hold

Which Milton held. In everything we are sprung

Of earth's first blood, have titles manifold.

"When I Have Borne in Memory”

When I have borne in memory what has tamed

Great Nations, how ennobling thoughts depart

When men change swords for ledgers and desert

The student's bower for gold, some fears unnamed

I had, my Country!—am I to be blamed? Now when I think of thee, and what thou art,

Verily, in the bottom of my heart,

Of those unfilial fears I am ashamed.
For dearly must we prize thee; we who
find

In thee a bulwark for the cause of men;
And I by my affection was beguiled.
What wonder if a Poet now and then,
Among the many movements of his mind,
Felt for thee as a lover or a child!

"There Is a Bondage Worse, Far Worse, to Bear"

There is a bondage worse, far worse, to bear Than his who breathes, by roof, and floor, and wall,

Pent in, a Tyrant's solitary Thrall: 'Tis his who walks about in the open air, One of a Nation who, henceforth, must wear Their fetters in their souls. For who could be,

Who, even the best, in such condition, free From self-reproach, reproach that he must share

With Human-nature? Never be it ours
To see the sun how brightly it will shine,
And know that noble feelings, manly
powers,

Instead of gathering strength, must droop and pine;

And earth with all her pleasant fruits and flowers

Fade, and participate in man's decline.

"These Times Strike Monied Worldlings with Dismay"

These times strike monied worldlings with dismay:

Even rich men, brave by nature, taint the air With words of apprehension and despair: While tens of thousands, thinking on the affray,

Men unto whom sufficient for the day

And minds not stinted or untilled are given,

"Vanguard of Liberty"

Vanguard of Liberty, ye men of Kent,
Ye children of a soil that doth advance
Her haughty brow against the coast of
France,

Now is the time to prove your hardiment!
To France be words of invitation sent!
They from their fields can see the counte-

nance

Of your fierce war, may ken the glittering lance

And hear you shouting forth your brave intent.

Left single, in bold parley, ye of yore,
Did from the Norman win a gallant wreath;
Confirmed the charters that were yours be-
fore;-

No parleying now! In Britain is one breath;

We all are with you now from shore to shore:

Ye men of Kent, 'tis victory or death!

"Come Ye-Who, If (Which Heaven Avert!)"

Come ye-who, if (which Heaven avert!) the Land

Were with herself at strife, would take your stand,

Like gallant Falkland, by the Monarch's side,

And, like Montrose, make Loyalty your pride

Come ye-who, not less zealous, might display

Banners at enmity with regal sway,

And, like the Pyms and Miltons of that day, Think that a State would live in sounder health

If Kingship bowed its head to Commonwealth

Ye too-whom no discreditable fear
Would keep, perhaps with many a fruitless

tear,

Uncertain what to choose and how to steerAnd ye who might mistake for sober

sense

And wise reserve, the plea of indolenceCome ye-whate'er your creed-O waken all,

Whate'er your temper, at your Country's call;

Resolving (this a free-born Nation can)
To have one Soul, and perish to a man,
Or save this honored Land from every Lord
But British reason and the British sword.

"Another Year!"

Another year!-another deadly blow!
Another mighty Empire overthrown!
And We are left, or shall be left, alone;
The last that dare to struggle with the
Foe.

'Tis well! from this day forward we shall know

That in ourselves our safety must be sought; That by our own right hands it must be wrought;

That we must stand unpropped, or be laid low.

O dastard whom such foretaste doth not cheer!

We shall exult, if they who rule the land
Be men who hold its many blessings dear,
Wise, upright, valiant; not a servile band,
Who are to judge of danger which they
fear,

And honor which they do not understand.

SONNETS ON NAPOLEON

WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

October, 1803

When, looking on the present face of things, I see one man, of men the meanest too! Raised up to sway the world, to do, undo, With mighty Nations for his underlings, The great events with which old story rings Seem vain and hollow; I find nothing great: Written in 1803 "On the Expected Invasion."

Nothing is left which I can venerate;
So that a doubt almost within me springs
Of Providence, such emptiness at length
Seems at the heart of all things. But, great
God!

I measure back the steps which I have trod! And tremble, seeing whence proceeds the strength

Of such poor Instruments, with thoughts sublime

I tremble at the sorrow of the time.

1 Written after the overthrow of Prussia in the battle of Jena, October 14, 1806.

Anticipation. October, 1803

Shout, for a mighty Victory is won! On British ground the Invaders are laid low;

The breath of Heaven has drifted them like snow,

And left them lying in the silent sun,

Never to rise again!-the work is done. Come forth, ye old men, now in peaceful show

And greet your sons! drums beat and trumpets blow!

Make merry, wives! ye little children, stun Your grandame's ears with pleasure of your noise!

Clap, infants, clap your hands! Divine must be

That triumph, when the very worst, the pain,

And even the prospect of our brethren slain, Hath something in it which the heart enjoys:

In glory will they sleep and endless sanctity.

NELSON AT TRAFALGAR

ROBERT SOUTHEY

[From The Life of Nelson, 1813] On the 9th Nelson sent Collingwood what he called, in his diary, the Nelsontouch. "I send you," said he, "my plan of attack, as far as a man dare venture to guess at the very uncertain position the enemy may be found in: but it is to place you perfectly at ease respecting my intentions, and to give full scope to your judgment for carrying them into effect. We can, my dear Coll, have no little jealousies. We have only one great object in view, that of annihilating our enemies, and getting a glorious peace for our country. No man has more confidence in another than I have in you; and no man will render your services more justice than your very old friend Nelson and Bronté." The order of sailing was to be the order of battle: the fleet in two lines, with an advanced squadron of eight of the fastest sailing two-deckers. The second in command, having the entire direction of his line, was to break through the enemy, about the twelfth ship from their rear: he would lead through the center, and the advanced squadron was to cut off three or four ahead of the center. This plan was to be adapted to the strength of the enemy, so that they should always be one-fourth su1 October, 1805.

perior to those whom they cut off. Nelson said, "That his admirals and captains, knowing his precise object to be that of a close and decisive action, would supply any deficiency of signals, and act accordingly. In case signals cannot be seen or clearly understood, no captain can do wrong, if he places his ship alongside that of an enemy." One of the last orders of this admirable man was, that the name and family of every officer, seaman, and marine, who might be killed or wounded in action, should be, as soon as possible, returned to him, in order to be transmitted to the chairman of the Patriotic Fund, that the case might be taken into consideration, for the benefit of the sufferer or his family.

About half-past nine in the morning of the 19th, the Mars, being the nearest to the fleet of the ships which formed the line of communication with the frigates in shore, repeated the signal that the enemy were time very light, with partial breezes, mostly coming out of port. The wind was at this from the S. S. W. Nelson ordered the signal to be made for a chase in the south-east quarter. About two, the repeating ships announced that the enemy were at sea. All night the British fleet continued under all sail, steering to the south-east. At daybreak they were in the entrance of the Straits, but the enemy were not in sight. About seven, one of the frigates made signal that the enemy were bearing north. Upon this the Victory hove to; and shortly afterwards Nelson made sail again to the northward. In the afternoon the wind blew fresh from the south-west, and the English began to fear that the foe might be forced to return to port. A little before sunset, however, Blackwood, in the Euryalus, telegraphed that they appeared determined to go to the westward,-"And that," said the admiral in his diary, "they shall not do, if it is in the power of Nelson and Bronté to prevent them." Nelson had signified to Blackwood, that he depended upon him to keep sight of the enemy. They were observed so well, that all their motions were made known to him; and, as they wore twice, he inferred that they were aiming to keep the port of Cadiz open, and would retreat there as soon as they saw the British fleet: for this reason he was very careful not to approach near enough to be seen by them during the night. At daybreak the combined fleets were distinctly seen from the Victory's deck, formed in a close line of

battle ahead, on the starboard tack, about twelve miles to leeward, and standing to the south. Our fleet consisted of twenty-seven sail of the line and four frigates; theirs of thirty-three and seven large frigates. Their superiority was greater in size, and weight of metal, than in numbers. They had four thousand troops on board; and the best riflemen who could be procured, many of them Tyrolese, were dispersed through the ships. Little did the Tyrolese, and little did the Spaniards, at that day, imagine what horrors the wicked tyrant whom they served was preparing for their country!

Soon after daylight Nelson came upon deck. The 21st of October was a festival in his family; because on that day his uncle, Captain Suckling, in the Dreadnought, with two other line of battle ships, had beaten off a French squadron of four sail of the line and three frigates. Nelson, with that sort of superstition from which few persons are entirely exempt, had more than once expressed his persuasion that this was to be the day of his battle also; and he was well pleased at seeing his prediction. about to be verified. The wind was now

from the west,-light breezes, with a long heavy swell. Signal was made to bear down upon the enemy in two lines; and the fleet set all sail. Collingwood, in the Royal Sovereign, led the lee-line of thirteen ships; the Victory led the weather-line of fourteen. Having seen that all was as it should be, Nelson retired to his cabin, and wrote this prayer:

"May the Great God, whom I worship, grant to my country, and for the benefit of Europe in general, a great and glorious victory; and may no misconduct in any one tarnish it; and may humanity after victory be the predominant feature in the British fleet! For myself individually, I commit my life to Him that made me, and may His blessing alight on my endeavors for serving my country faithfully! To Him I resign myself, and the just cause which is intrusted to me to defend. Amen, Amen, Amen."..

Blackwood went on board the Victory about six. He found him in good spirits, but very calm; not in that exhilaration which he had felt upon entering into battle at Aboukir and Copenhagen; he knew that his own life would be particularly aimed at, and seems to have looked for death with almost as sure an expectation as for victory. His whole attention was fixed upon the enemy. They tacked to the northward, and

formed their line on the larboard tack; thus bringing the shoals of Trafalgar and St. Pedro under the lee of the British, and keeping the port of Cadiz open for themselves. This was judiciously done: and Nelson, aware of all the advantages which it gave them, made signal to prepare to anchor.

Villeneuve was a skillful seaman; worthy of serving a better master and a better cause. His plan of defense was as well conceived, and as original, as the plan of attack. He formed the fleet in a double line, every alternate ship being about a cable's length to windward of her second ahead and astern. Nelson, certain of a triumphant issue to the day, asked Blackwood what he should consider as a victory. That officer answered, that, considering the handsome way in which battle was offered by the enemy, their apparent determination for a fair trial of strength, and the situation of the land, he thought it would be a glorious result if fourteen were captured. He replied: "I shall not be satisfied with less than twenty." Soon afterwards he asked him if he did not think there was a signal wanting. Captain Blackwood made answer that he thought the whole fleet seemed very clearly to understand what they were about. These words were scarcely spoken before that signal was made, which will be remembered as long as the language, or even the memory, of England shall endure-Nelson's last signal:-"England expects every man to do his duty!" It was received throughout the fleet, with a shout of answering acclamation, made sublime by the spirit which it breathed and the feeling which it expressed. "Now," said Lord Nelson, "I can do no more. We must trust to the Great Disposer of all events, and the justice of our cause. I thank God for this great opportunity of doing my duty."

He wore that day, as usual, his admiral's frock coat, bearing on the left breast four stars of the different orders with which he was invested. Ornaments which rendered him so conspicuous a mark for the enemy, were beheld with ominous apprehensions by his officers. It was known that there were riflemen on board the French ships, and it could not be doubted but that his life would be particularly aimed at. They communicated their fears to each other; and the surgeon, Mr. Beatty, spoke to the chaplain, Dr. Scott, and to Mr. Scott, the public secretary, desiring that some person would en