4
SONNET.
AFTER VISITING THE FIELD OF WATERLOO.
A winged Goddess, clothed in vesture wrought
Of rainbow colours; One whose port was bold,
Whose overburthened hand could scarcely hold
The glittering crowns and garlands which it brought,
Hover'd in air above the far-famed Spot.
She vanished—All was joyless, blank, and cold;
But if from wind-swept fields of corn that roll'd
In dreary billows, from the meagre cot,
And monuments that soon may disappear,
Meanings we craved which could not there be found;
If the wide prospect seemed an envious seal
Of great exploits; we felt as Men should feel,
With such vast hoards of hidden carnage near,
And horror breathing from the silent ground!
Of rainbow colours; One whose port was bold,
Whose overburthened hand could scarcely hold
The glittering crowns and garlands which it brought,
Hover'd in air above the far-famed Spot.
She vanished—All was joyless, blank, and cold;
But if from wind-swept fields of corn that roll'd
In dreary billows, from the meagre cot,
And monuments that soon may disappear,
Meanings we craved which could not there be found;
If the wide prospect seemed an envious seal
Of great exploits; we felt as Men should feel,
With such vast hoards of hidden carnage near,
And horror breathing from the silent ground!
