Trafalgar Poem by William Canton

O the merry bells of Chester, ancient Chester on the Dee!
On that glittering autumn morning, eighteen five,
Every Englishman was glad to be alive.
It was good to breathe this English air, to see
English earth, with autumn field and reddening tree,
And to hear the bells of Chester, ancient Chester on the Dee.
For like morning-stars together, sweet and shrill,
In a blithe recurrent cycle
Sang St. Peter and St. Michael,
John the Baptist and St. Mary on the Hill;
And the quick exulting changes of their peal
Made the heavens above them laugh, and the jubilant city reel.
In the streets the crowds were cheering. Like a shout
From each spire the bickering bunting rollicked out.
O that buoyant autumn morning, eighteen five,
Every Englishman rejoiced to be alive;
And the heart of England throbbed from sea to sea
As the joy-bells clashed in Chester, jovial Chester on the Dee.
Hark, in pauses of the revel—sole and slow—
Old St. Werburgh swung a heavy note of woe!
Hark, between the jocund peals a single toll,
Stern and muffled, marked the passing of a soul!
English hearts were sad that day as sad could be;
English eyes so filled with tears they scarce could see;
And all the joy was dashed with grief in ancient Chester on the Dee!
Loss and triumph—joy and sorrow! Far away
Drave the great fight's wreckage down Trafalgar Bay.
O that glorious autumn morning, eighteen five,
Every Englishman was proud to be alive!
For the power of France was broken on the sea—
But ten sail left of her thirty sail and three.
Yet sad were English men as sad could be,
For that, somewhere o'er the foreign wave, they knew
Home to English ground and grass the dust of Nelson drew.
Would to God that on that morning, eighteen five,
England's greatest man of all had been alive,
If but to breathe this English air, to see
English earth, with autumn field and yellowing tree,
And to hear the bells of Chester, joyful Chester on the Dee