been described well and worthily by a living poet, who has happily
blended the passion and wild transitions of lyric song with the swell
and solemnity of epic narration.

"--Thou art fall'n! fall'n, in the lap
Of victory. To thy country thou cam'st back,
Thou, conqueror, to triumphal Albion cam'st
A corse! I saw before thy hearse pass on
The comrades of thy perils and renown.
The frequent tear upon their dauntless breasts
Fell. I beheld the pomp thick gathered round
The trophied car that bore thy graced remains
Through armed ranks, and a nation gazing on.
Bright glowed the sun, and not a cloud distained
Heaven's arch of gold, but all was gloom beneath.
A holy and unutterable pang
Thrilled on the soul. Awe and mute anguish fell
On all.--Yet high the public bosom throbbed
With triumph. And if one, 'mid that vast pomp,
If but the voice of one had shouted forth
The name of NELSON, thou hadst past along,
Thou in thy hearse to burial past, as oft
Before the van of battle, proudly rode
Thy prow, down Britain's line, shout after shout
Rending the air with triumph, ere thy hand
Had lanced the bolt of victory."

SOTHEBY (Saul, p. 80).

I introduced this digression with an apology, yet have extended it so