Battle Of Corruna. (Death Of Captain Cooke)
The tide of fate rolls on! heart-pierced and pale,
The gallant soldier lies,[1] nor aught avail,
The shield, the sword, the spirit of the brave,
From rapine's armed hand thy vales to save,
Land of illustrious heroes, who, of yore,
Drenched the same plains with the invader's gore,
Stood frowning, in the front of death, and hurled
Defiance to the conquerors[2] of the world!
Oh, when we hear the agonising tale
Of those who, faint, and fugitive, and pale,
Saw hourly, harassed through their long retreat,
Some worn companion sinking at their feet,
Yet even in danger and from toil more bold,
Back on their gathering foes the tide of battle rolled;
While tears of pity mingle with applause,
On the dread scene in silence let us pause;
Yes, pause, an...