No More Learning

[First published, _Examiner_, July 30, 1815. ]



FROM THE FRENCH. [320]

I.

Must thou go, my glorious Chief,
Severed from thy faithful few?
Who can tell thy warrior's grief,
Maddening o'er that long adieu? [nr]
Woman's love, and Friendship's zeal,
Dear as both have been to me--[ns]
What are they to all I feel,
With a soldier's faith for thee? [nt]

II.

Idol of the soldier's soul!
First in fight, but mightiest now;[nu]
Many could a world control;
Thee alone no doom can bow.
By thy side for years I dared
Death; and envied those who fell,
When their dying shout was heard,
Blessing him they served so well. [321]

III.

Would that I were cold with those,
Since this hour I live to see;
When the doubts of coward foes[nv]
Scarce dare trust a man with thee,
Dreading each should set thee free!
Oh! although in dungeons pent,
All their chains were light to me,
Gazing on thy soul unbent.

IV.
Would the sycophants of him
Now so deaf to duty's prayer,[nw]
Were his borrowed glories dim,
In his native darkness share?
Were that world this hour his own,
All thou calmly dost resign,
Could he purchase with that throne
Hearts like those which still are thine? [nx]

V.

My Chief, my King, my Friend, adieu!
Never did I droop before;
Never to my Sovereign sue,
As his foes I now implore:
All I ask is to divide
Every peril he must brave;
Sharing by the hero's side
His fall--his exile--and his grave. [ny]

[First published, _Poems_, 1816,]



ODE FROM THE FRENCH. [322]

I.

We do not curse thee, Waterloo!
Though Freedom's blood thy plain bedew;
There 'twas shed, but is not sunk--
Rising from each gory trunk,
Like the water-spout from ocean,
With a strong and growing motion--
It soars, and mingles in the air,
With that of lost La Bedoyere--[323]
With that of him whose honoured grave
Contains the "bravest of the brave. "
A crimson cloud it spreads and glows,
But shall return to whence it rose;
When 'tis full 'twill burst asunder--
Never yet was heard such thunder
As then shall shake the world with wonder--
Never yet was seen such lightning
As o'er heaven shall then be bright'ning!
Like the Wormwood Star foretold
By the sainted Seer of old,
Show'ring down a fiery flood,
Turning rivers into blood. [324]

II.

The Chief has fallen, but not by you,
Vanquishers of Waterloo!
When the soldier citizen
Swayed not o'er his fellow-men--
Save in deeds that led them on
Where Glory smiled on Freedom's son--
Who, of all the despots banded,
With that youthful chief competed?
Who could boast o'er France defeated,
Till lone Tyranny commanded?
Till, goaded by Ambition's sting,
The Hero sunk into the King?