Song. The Recal Of The Hero.

When Discord blew her fell alarm
On Gallia's blood-stain'd ground,
When Usurpation's giant arm
Enslaved the nations round:
The thunders of avenging Heaven
To NELSON'S chosen hand were given!
By NELSON'S chosen hand were hurl'd,
To rescue the devoted world!

The tyrant power, his vengeance dread
To Egypt's shores pursued;
At Trafalgar its hydra-head
For ever sunk subdued.
The freedom of mankind was won!
The hero's glorious task was done!
When Heaven, Oppression's ensigns furl'd,
Recall'd him from the rescued world.

Thomas Gent

Thomas Gent was an 18th-century English writer, printer, and bookseller, known predominantly for his historical works. Despite facing numerous financial difficulties, his passion for printing never waned, leading him to chronicle his experiences and the events of his time with a distinct personal touch. His works offer a vivid depiction of 18th-century English life, ensuring his place in literary history.

Thomas Gent

Widowed Love.[1]

Thomas Gent, Simple Poetry

Stanzas, Written Impromtu On The Late Peace.

Thomas Gent, Simple Poetry

Sonnet To----, On Her Recovery From Illness.

Thomas Gent, Simple Poetry

Written In The Album Of I---- H---- P----, Esq.

Thomas Gent, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

On The Death Of Nelson.

Swift through the land while Fame transported flies,
And shouts triumphant shake th' illumined skies;
Britannia, bending o'er her dauntless prows,
With laurels thickening round her blazon'd brows,
In joy dejected, sees her triumph cross'd,
Exults in Victory won, but mourns the Victor lost.
Immortal NELSON! still with fond amaze
Thy glorious deed each British eye surveys,
Beholds thee still, on conquer'd floods afar:
Fate's flaming shaft! the thunderbolt of war!
Hurl'd from thy hands, Britannia's vengeance roars,
And bloody billows stain the hostile shores:
Thy sacred ire Confed'rate Kingdoms braves,
And 'whelms their Navies in Sepulchral waves!
--Graced with each attribute which Heaven supplies
To Godlike Chiefs: humane, intrepid, wise:
His Nation's Bulwark, a...

Thomas Gent

On The Death Of Lord Nelson.

Swift through the land while Fame transported flies,
And shouts triumphant shake the illumin'd skies;
Britannia, bending o'er her dauntless prows,
With laurels thickening round her blazon'd brows,
In joy dejected, sees her triumph crost,
Exults in Victory won, but mourns the Victor lost.
Immortal Nelson! still with fond amaze,
Thy glorious deeds each British eye surveys,
Beholds thee still, on conquer'd floods afar:
Fate's flaming shaft! the thunderbolt of war!
Hurl'd from thy hands, Britannia's vengeance roars,
And bloody billows stain the hostile shores;
Thy sacred ire Confed'rate Kingdoms braves
And 'whelms their Navies in Sepulchral waves!

--Graced with each attribute which Heaven supplies
To Godlike Chiefs: humane, intrepid, wise;
His Nation's bulwa...

Thomas Gent

Battle Of The Baltic

Of Nelson and the North
Sing the glorious day's renown,
When to battle fierce came forth
All the might of Denmark's crown,
And her arms along the deep proudly shone;
By each gun the lighted brand
In a bold determined hand,
And the Prince of all the land
Led them on.

Like leviathans afloat
Lay their bulwarks on the brine,
While the sign of battle flew
On the lofty British line:
It was ten of April morn by the chime:
As they drifted on their path
There was silence deep as death,
And the boldest held his breath
For a time.

But the might of England flush'd
To anticipate the scene;
And her van the fleeter rush'd
O'er the deadly space between:
'Hearts of oak!' our captains cried, when each gun
From its adamantine lips

Thomas Campbell

The Heroes Of Waterloo.

Once more Britannia sheathes her conqu'ring sword,
And Peace returns, by Victory restored;
Peace, that erewhile estranged, 'midst long alarms,
Scarce welcomed home, was ravish'd from our arms;
What time, fierce bounding from his broken chain,
Gaul's banish'd Despot re-aspired to reign;
Whilst at his call, prompt minions of his breath,
Round his dire throne rush'd Havoc, Spoil, and Death;
With wonted pomp his baleful ensign blazed,
And Europe shrunk, and shudder'd as she gazed.
Insulted Liberty her tocsin rung;
Again Britannia to the combat sprung:
Star of the Nations! her auspicious form
Led on their march, and foremost braved the storm.

Pent-in its clouds, ere yet the tempest flash'd,
Ere peal on peal the mingling thunder crash'd;
While Fate hung dubiou...

Thomas Gent

Epitaph On Nelson

Lo! here are Nelson's honour'd relics laid;
Britons! your Country's Genius calls you here,
And bids you pay to your lost Hero's shade
The noble homage of a patriot tear.

Against the fleets of Gallia, Denmark, Spain,
Full oft Britannia's war-bolts he has hurl'd;
Stretch'd forth her sceptre o'er the vanquish'd main,
And with her glory fill'd the astonish'd world.

His matchless triumphs shall the voice of Fame,
With loud applause, to latest ages tell;
Still uttering with a sigh Trafalgar's name,
Where last he conquer'd, where alas! he fell.

Thomas Oldham

Ode, To The Duke Of Wellington

    This, this is inspiration's hour!
    Poetic Genius, rushing on my soul,
    Rouses her every sense, her every power,
    And with a force too mighty to controul
    Inspires the warm, enthusiastic song:
    Now will I sing, O Wellington! of thee;
    To thee my plausive strains, of right, belong;
For thee my lyre shall pour its choicest harmony.
    Long have I fondly mused the theme sublime;
    And from my grateful heart of patriot flame
    In secret, offer'd incense to thy name;
    But dared not with unhallow'd rhyme
        Profane the British Hero's fame.
        Thrice welcome this propitious time!
Now, joining with my Country's minstrel-band,
Thy deeds, O Wellington! will I rehearse
        In lofty never-dying verse,
To which Britannia's se...

Thomas Oldham