97
A HOLIDAY.
A glorious August day, an English three
Mingling with some of their own country folk,
And some of other lands on Belgian soil,
Intent on making most of holiday.
So, merrily they climbed the many steps,
And, panting, reached the summit of a mound
Huge, bare, unique, and found a resting-place
Beneath the shadow of a giant form,
A lion from French captured cannon cast,
Meet trophy of an English victory.
Thence gained they a wide, comprehensive view
Of gently undulating country,—fields of corn,
Varied but slightly by long rows of trees
And little groups of buildings here and there,
But all around teemed with deep interest
For many a nation, and for England most.
Mingling with some of their own country folk,
And some of other lands on Belgian soil,
Intent on making most of holiday.
So, merrily they climbed the many steps,
And, panting, reached the summit of a mound
Huge, bare, unique, and found a resting-place
Beneath the shadow of a giant form,
A lion from French captured cannon cast,
Meet trophy of an English victory.
Thence gained they a wide, comprehensive view
Of gently undulating country,—fields of corn,
Varied but slightly by long rows of trees
And little groups of buildings here and there,
But all around teemed with deep interest
For many a nation, and for England most.
For here, at Waterloo, some decades since,
The flower of British forces, with allies
Friendly and true, gathered and put to rout
The last of that grand army, that so long
Had carried terror wheresoe'er it went.
At length Napoleon's course was surely checked,
The bold usurper's daring schemes were foiled,
Conquered the conqueror of a continent,
The troubler of all European peace,
The bitter foe of England. He had risen
By genius, valour, resolution, strength,
From dignity to dignity in France;
But by ambition, pride, and tyranny
Was lured to degradation and defeat;
And this the spot that saw his overthrow,
When Europe gained new hope and breathed afresh.
The flower of British forces, with allies
Friendly and true, gathered and put to rout
The last of that grand army, that so long
Had carried terror wheresoe'er it went.
At length Napoleon's course was surely checked,
The bold usurper's daring schemes were foiled,
Conquered the conqueror of a continent,
The troubler of all European peace,
The bitter foe of England. He had risen
By genius, valour, resolution, strength,
From dignity to dignity in France;
But by ambition, pride, and tyranny
Was lured to degradation and defeat;
And this the spot that saw his overthrow,
When Europe gained new hope and breathed afresh.
And now a quaint, gaunt man, in gorgeous garb,
Told (as each day he told) the far-famed tale
Of that momentous, memorable day
Of dire defeat, and splendid victory,
Told (as each day he told) the far-famed tale
Of that momentous, memorable day
Of dire defeat, and splendid victory,
