TORRES VEDRAS

As who, while erst the Achaians wall'd the shore,

Stood Atlas-like before,

A granite face against the Trojan sea

Of foes who seethed and foam'd,

From that stern rock refused incessantly;

So He, in his colossal lines, astride

From sea to river-side,

Alhandra past Aruda to the Towers,

Our one true man of men

Frown'd back bold France and all the Imperial powers.

For when that Eagle, towering in his might

Beyond the bounds of Right,

O'ercanopied Europe with his rushing wings,

And all the world was prone

Before him as a God, a King of Kings;

When Freedom to one isle, her ancient shrine,

O'er the free favouring brine

Fled, as a girl by lustful war and shame

Discloister'd from her home,

Barefoot, with glowing eyes, and cheeks on flame,

And call'd aloud, and bade the realm awake

To arms for Freedom's sake:

— Yet,— for the land had rusted long in rest,

The nerves of war unstrung,

Faint thoughts or rash alternate in her breast,

While purblind party-strife with venomous spite

Made plausible wrong seem right,—

O then for that unselfish hero-chief

Tender and true, and lost

At Trafalgar,— or him, whose patriot grief

Died with the prayer for England, as he died,

In vain we might have cried!

But this one pillar rose, and bore the war

Upon himself alone;

Supreme o'er Fortune and her idle star.

For not by might but mind, by skill, not chance,

He headed stubborn France

From Tagus back by Douro to Garonne;

And on the last, worst, field,

The crown of all his hundred victories won,

World-calming Waterloo!— Then, laying by

War's fearful enginery,

In each state-tempest mann'd the wearying helm;

E'en through life's winter-years

Serving with all his strength the ungrateful realm.

O firm and foursquare mind! O solid will

Fix'd, inexpugnable

By crowns or censures! only bent to do

The day's work in the day;—

Fame with her idiot yelp might come, or go!

O breast that dared with Nature's patience wait

Till the slow wheels of Fate

Struck the consummate hour; in leash the while

Reining his eager bands,

The prey in view,— with that foreseeing smile!

And when for blood on Salamanca ridge

Morn broke, or Orthez’ bridge,

He read the ground, and his stern squadrons moved

And placed with artist-skill,

Red counters in the perilous game they loved,

Impassive, iron, he and they!— and then

With eagle-keener ken

Glanced through the field, the crisis-instant knew,

And through the gap of war

His thundering legions on their victory threw.

Not iron, he, but adamant! Diamond-strong,

And diamond-clear of wrong:

For truth he struck right out, whate'er befall!

Above the fear of fear:

Duty for duty's sake his all-in-all.