William Lisle Bowles (1762 - 1850 / England)
Oh, hadst thou fall'n, brave youth! on that proud day,
When our victorious fleet o'er the red surge
Rolled in terrific glory, thou hadst fall'n
Most honoured; and Remembrance, while she thought
Upon thy gallant end, had dried her tear!
Now far beyond the huge Atlantic wave
Thy bones decay; the withering pestilence,
That swept the islands of the western world,
Smote thee, untimely drooping to the tomb!
But 'tis enough; whate'er a soldier's fate,
That firm he hied him, where stern honour bade;
Though with unequal strength, he sunk and died.
William Lisle Bowles's Other Poems
- A Cenotaph,
- A Garden-Seat At Home
- A Rustic Seat Near The Sea
- Abba Thule's Lament For His Son Prince L...
- Approach Of Summer
- Art And Nature
- At Dover
- At Malvern
- At Oxford
- At Tynemouth Priory
- Avenue In Savernake Forest
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