On the Death of Lord Nelson
The Morning Chronicle (November 8, 1805)
Why o'er the dark and troubled deep
Is heard at times a mournful noise;
While Victors midst their triumphs weep,
The vanquish'd in their fall rejoice!
Why burst the sobs of yonder Tars,
But now triumphant o'er the foe;
Unmindful of their gory scars,
Their tears that now first learn to flow?
For NELSON'S death their tears are shed,
And grief alone their thoughts employs;
Ev'n Vict'ry's self reclines her head,
And weeping checks her wonted joys.
Thy deeds, great Chief, shall be the theme,
Afar on Ganges' hallow'd shores;
While Niagara's lightening stream,
Thy dreaded name in thunder roars.
Stern MARS, as 'midst the fight he raves,
Shall ev'ry dreadful peal prolong;
And NEPTUNE roll his gory waves,
To sound their fav'rite's fun'ral song.
And while on high her Warrior's tomb
Thy weeping country grateful rears;
Thy laurels o'er it e'er shall bloom,
Still water'd by a Nation's tears.