BOADICEA.
19
Frenzied with wrongs they seek revenge alone,
Mercy to beg or give alike unknown.
But ah! not yet 'tis theirs to view the foe
Crush'd at their feet, and laid for ever low;
Though droops his eagle crest and ruffled plumes,
Still stern revenge his fiery eye illumes;
Driven from his quarry, watchful yet he sails,
And wheels in distant circles on the gales,
And nearer sweeping still in balanced flight,
Prepares to stoop with renovated might.
Heard ye the clang of mingling armies there,
Mix'd with the groans of Anguish and Despair,
And all the piercing sounds of battle roar
Loud as the deep that yawns on Norway's shore
When o'er the Ocean's voice of thunder rise
The shrieking vessel's agonizing cries.
Lo! chiefs sublime amid the storm of death
Buffet the raging surge that roars beneath,
And through the mangled files the scythe-arm'd car
Tears its red path across the opening war,
And naked bosoms bared to danger feel
The mailed legion's points of gleaming steel:
Ah, mourn not, warriors, for the life ye leave,
Grieve for your Albion, for your country grieve;
For lo! the whirlwind blast of battle veers,
And backwards bends that grove of patriot spears,
And louder swell above the mingled cry
The Roman's pealing shouts of Victory.
In vain above the shatter'd throng is seen,
With terror-darting eye the Warrior-Queen,
While wet with blood her long bright tresses toss'd
Float like a standard o'er the rallying host;
In vain the conquering legions pause and stand
In mid career, check'd by a woman's hand:
Borne down the cataract that sweeps the ground
O'er falling ranks her fiery coursers bound,
Mercy to beg or give alike unknown.
But ah! not yet 'tis theirs to view the foe
Crush'd at their feet, and laid for ever low;
Though droops his eagle crest and ruffled plumes,
Still stern revenge his fiery eye illumes;
Driven from his quarry, watchful yet he sails,
And wheels in distant circles on the gales,
And nearer sweeping still in balanced flight,
Prepares to stoop with renovated might.
Heard ye the clang of mingling armies there,
Mix'd with the groans of Anguish and Despair,
And all the piercing sounds of battle roar
Loud as the deep that yawns on Norway's shore
When o'er the Ocean's voice of thunder rise
The shrieking vessel's agonizing cries.
Lo! chiefs sublime amid the storm of death
Buffet the raging surge that roars beneath,
And through the mangled files the scythe-arm'd car
Tears its red path across the opening war,
And naked bosoms bared to danger feel
The mailed legion's points of gleaming steel:
Ah, mourn not, warriors, for the life ye leave,
Grieve for your Albion, for your country grieve;
For lo! the whirlwind blast of battle veers,
And backwards bends that grove of patriot spears,
And louder swell above the mingled cry
The Roman's pealing shouts of Victory.
In vain above the shatter'd throng is seen,
With terror-darting eye the Warrior-Queen,
While wet with blood her long bright tresses toss'd
Float like a standard o'er the rallying host;
In vain the conquering legions pause and stand
In mid career, check'd by a woman's hand:
Borne down the cataract that sweeps the ground
O'er falling ranks her fiery coursers bound,
