WATERLOO.* 0 C?od? Thy arm was here ? Aminot to ns, but to thy arm alone Ascrim we all O THAT tO me the deathless song were given, Thoughts born of light, and. words that breathe of Heaven ! 0 might I wake those stra/ns from Echo's cave, Which died in melody o'er Miltou's grave ! Then the rapt hope were mine to sing and soar, Where never poet da r'd his flight before, And ev'n to Glory's loftiest realm pursue Thy matchless theme, immortal Waterloo. But vainly now, still lab'ring unexprest, Pants the deep feeling in my baffled breast. ? Written for tim Cltancellor's Prize-at Cambrid? l?--As this dsion, which awarded the prize to another composition; many parts, which were omitted when it was sent in, have been again inserted, and some corrections have been made. The O?!er alevents Forum the plan d the poem, With the exeeptinn ?fo?e digrezs? to Brossals, it Ims.beeu smq?ml?
�
