Literary Gazette, 1st February, 1823, Pages 74-75
See erratum at the foot of page 16 re correction to the title (The Cadets)
ORIGINAL POETRY.
THE CADETS. An Indian Sketch.
The banners are flashing, hurrah, hurrah!
The sabres are clashing, hurrah, hurrah!
For the star wept-on grave
Of the conquering brave,
Who would not rush to the field? Hurrah!
On to the battle, hurrah, hurrah!
The war thunder's rattle, hurrah, hurrah!
'Tis the music most dear
To the warrior's ear,
For it calls to the combat, hurrah!
The death song is singing, hurrah, hurrah!
The death shots are ringing, hurrah, hurrah!
By the musket's red peal,
By the light of our steel,
We will stand to our colours or die, hurrah! L. E. L.
New words to the Air "The Campbells are coming.'
The ship rode o'er the waters gallantly,
Her pennons waving, hope and enterprise
Filling her white sails with their eager breath.
The shore lay dim behind. That Iong last look
Given at parting to our own dear land—
Our land of infancy, and home, and love —
Strained every eyeball now; and as the coast
Diminished to one dim and distant line,
How very tenderly each bosom clung
To all its old affections! Friends and home,
How dear they are when we are parting from them!
And "farewell" came, in all its many tones
Of hope, and sorrow, and anxiety,
Freshly upon the ear, as never felt
Deeply and truly till in that last glance!—
On, on the vessel went. The waves grew red
Beneath the crimson of the setting sun;
Then rolled in silver light, when the pale moon
Claimed her so gentle empire o'er the sky,
Like the deep flush of anger calmed by meek
Enduring patience. How most beautiful
This radiant meeting of the sky and sea!
Above, the stars, like spirits in their pride
Wandering in music round their lovely queen,
Too glorious for idolatry. Beneath,
The ocean, like a mighty mirror, spread
In its immensity of emerald beauty.
