| |
| ABOVE the howl of ocean | |
| And frowning Trafalgar, | |
| From bursting clouds, went forth the voice | |
| Of elemental war; | |
| |
| And, louder than the tempest, | 5 |
| From man, the insect, came, | |
| Beneath the frown of Trafalgar, | |
| His deadly voice of flame. | |
| |
| But, ere it rent the blackness | |
| Which God’s stern brow cast wide, | 10 |
| “Now, victory or Westminster!” | |
| Said Nelson, in his pride. | |
| |
| “My comrades, do your duty! | |
| Or what will England say?” | |
| “They shall!” cried accents from the deep, | 15 |
| Where dead men weltering lay. | |
| |
| Red horror tore the tempest; | |
| Down stooped both sea and sky; | |
| And, like a flood on Collingwood, | |
| The clouds rushed from on high. | 20 |
| |
| Life pledged for life, armed thousands | |
| Joined then in horrid strife. | |
| O Life, thou art an awful thing!— | |
| For what is God but Life? | |
| |
| Shouts, groans, and man’s dread thunder, | 25 |
| Made up one dismal cry: | |
| The affrighted storm asked what it meant, | |
| And Death made no reply. | |
| |
| But on the grave of thousands | |
| A silent spirit trod; | 30 |
| He clasped them in the embrace of Death,— | |
| And what is Death but God? | |
| |
| He cared not for their glory, | |
| He asked not of their cause; | |
| While, right or wrong, the weak and strong | 35 |
| Obeyed alike his laws. | |
| |
| One tyrant lost his war-ships; | |
| Worse tyrants summed their gains; | |
| And toil-worn nations sang and danced | |
| (As maniacs dance) in chains! | 40 |
| |
| How like an empty bubble | |
| The turmoil passed away! | |
| “Where are the weak?” said sun and cloud; | |
| “The mighty!—where are they?” | |
| |
| And birds of light and calmness— | 45 |
| Where dolphins gambolled free, | |
| And heroes in their glory lay— | |
| Flew over the smooth sea. | |
| |
| And, from his throne of silence, | |
| The God of Peace looked down, | 50 |
| Though sternly, on their bed of death, | |
| With pity in his frown. | |
| |
| For Spaniard, Frank, and Briton, | |
| All peaceful in one grave, | |
| Like babies in their nurses’ arms, | 55 |
| Slept under the green wave. | |
| |
| Image of God! through horrors | |
| “That make the angels weep,” | |
| Why seek the gift that comes unsought,— | |
| His boon of dreadful sleep? | 60 |
| |
