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Adam Lindsay Gordon - The Death Of NelsonAdam Lindsay Gordon - The Death Of Nelson
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`TWAS midst the battle`s echoing din And the cannon`s thundering roar, When brave men fought to die or win And the decks ran red with gore ; When the fleets of England, France, and Spain Were joined in desperate fight; When fell the leaden shot like ram, And flashed the cutlass bright ; When the iron ball`s resistless sway Through sheet and rigging passed, And through the swelling sails made way And split the towering mast ; When the tumult of the contest`s swell Reached to the shore, `Twas then in victory`s arms he fell He fell to rise no more. And will he never, never rise, That spirit bold and true ? Has he for ever closed his eyes And bid this world adieu ? And where, oh, where shall England find `Mong all her many brave, A soul so generous and so kind In hour of need to save. Thou mayst on bygone times look back With conscience bright and clear, No mad ambition made thy track A selfish, vain career. Thy country`s safety thou didst guard, Her honour was thy care, Her foeman`s course thou didst retard And made her prospects fair : And couldst thou live and yet return Back to thy grateful land, I ween each English heart would burn To clasp thee by the hand ; And highest honour thou wouldst hold And most revered wouldst be, Midst all that loyal race and bold The Saxon chivalry. While England`s lovely fair ones too On thee would brightly smile, And hail with joy the guardian true Of their unconquered isle. But no, alas! the thought is vain, Thy course on earth is o`er, And thou wilt never rise again Nor see thy country more. Yet wherefore shouldst thou be delayed In this dark world of ours, Whose brightest paths are marked with shade, And false its fairest flowers ? `The hero in his cabin lies, While round him mutely stand With throbbing hearts and tearful eyes A sad but silent band ; But now his gallant mates have hurled Destruction on their foes, And through the fleet like lightning whirled The shout of victory goes. The conqueror gazed upon his sword : ‘My earthly race is run `; Then faintly murmured, ‘Thank my God, My duty I have done.’ The sun on high with golden light Streaks through the cabin now, And for an instant flickers bright On Nelson`s pallid brow. The dying man looked up and smiled, One long look round him cast, And from that scene of carnage wild The soul to heaven passed.
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