Classic Poem

How exquisite a task to Bards is given
When TRUTH inspires them from its native Heaven,
When actual deeds are subjects for the song,
When Living Beings to the Theme belong,
When mighty Nations down the foreground stand,
And real Heroes range on either hand!
Seize Bards your harps, a Theme on each side springs,
Let wonder's transports vibrate midst the strings,
Awake! Mark Empires all around you burst,
Events gigantic in each hour are nursed.
Your harps seize now, for You enjoy the boon
That with events so vast their tones attune,
Then, shall these trembling notes no more aspire
Nor float discordant through your sacred Quire,
With blushes then withdrawn this humble Lute
By Admiration awed, with sentient Pleasure mute.
Wide flew the Gates of Heaven. The God of Day
Now lofty rose above the paths of May,
To gild a newer month with brighter rays
As northward during added hours he strays,
Creating landscapes in June's warmer glow
As variant blooms in richer colours flow.
Salubrious breezes charged with Odours fly,
Wafting the sweets of Earth towards the sky,
Or midst the cordage of the Vessels play,
Or o'er the emerald waves indenting stray.
As, from the lethargy of calm repose,
The Tigre's Captain animated rose,
No waking thought fixed terror in his mind,
On HIM who rules the sea his thought reclined!
The deck received him, where his gallant Crew
With sturdy Spirits met the Hero's view.
He knew to touch their hearts' remotest string,
And to high deeds their every Wish to bring!
The R ALEIGHS , Drakes , of Centuries past seem'd there,
Flash'd in his eye, made England's navy dare,
Marines and Seamen shout transporting cries,
As to the wish'd for pitch their souls arise,
Which gain'd, he stopt and waved them to their boats,
And Britain's Genius o'er the billows floats.
On shore they boldly leap with loud Huzzas,
The shore resounds with Acre's rapturous praise,
The English Leader quickly heads his band,
To snatch, though Sailor, Laurels on the Land.
With practised skill a valorous troop he chose
O'er whose high fervor Self-possession rose,
Whose courage firm assumes a placid air,
And seems most tranquil when the most they dare!
Dark rose the Tower. Beneath, with latent twine
Insidious crept a fresh formed threat'ning Mine;
Crowding its avenue, a deep wrought trench,
Stood a bright Panoply of guardian french,
Whose clustering bayonets appeared above,
Thick set and menacing, an iron grove.
The Tower through long Tradition is endeared,
And will be, though to distant Ages rear'd
Its sacred, interesting, pensive air
Brings sweet remembrance! never prospect rare
E'er touch'd the soul with pleasure more refined;
E'er gave so sweet a languor to the mind.
There, seems our R ICHARD 's battle axe aloft,
Its Lightning flashing o'er the foe he scoffed,
Its Lustre gleams on through each added age,
And cheers dull History's laborious page,
On heavy periods throws extrinsic light,
And brings forth times remote upon the sight.
Prince E DWARD 's glories here too blazed around,
Here tower'd his Helmet on heroic ground,
His E LINOR — ah! still her sainted sigh
Breathes in the Zephyrs, still her radiant eye
Beams purest Rapture o'er her wounded Lord,
Snatch'd from the tomb, by venturous Love restored!
When the rank poison from his wound she drew
Untarnish'd was her lip's carnation hue,
Its stimulus new influence seemed t'impart
To heal his wound, reanimate his heart —
As touched the Prophet's lip the livid coal
Strong inspiration filled at once his soul,
No Pain he suffered, Gift he had acquired,
With new found power perceived himself inspired!
Midst coming dangers of th' advancing hour
Ruin seem'd threat'ning Acre's haughty Tower.
Fate there took Station. Saved, it guards the land,
O'erthrown, destruction riots o'er the strand.
The Mine to verify, its Course to know,
Went forth the chosen Britons on the foe.
The naval warriors o'er each Trench descry
The clustering Bayonets with dauntless eye.
The Turks, to right and left, on either Trench
Advance to aid them and expel the French.
Marines and Sailors boldly force their way
Towards the Mine, no Risk creates delay,
Whilst Glory's tint upon their cheeks is spread
And blooms and glows with bright diffusing red.
The entrance gain'd they quickly sink from view,
They court the Danger and the work pursue.
Part guard the opening, part are sunk from sight,
And deeds atchieve well worthy of the light,
O'erpower the Miners, hew the props away,
And, as they're fell'd, withdraw towards the day.
Quick from the Camp came forth impatient France,
The Order passes and her sons advance.
Transporting valour stirs th' excited Gauls,
As with new ardour they attack the walls.
Whilst a bold band R OMBAUD the General chose
To flank the Mine as th' enemy arose,
The Britons, steady in their work profound,
Though trem'lous motion o'er them rocks the ground,
Sink the last prop. Their dreadful duty done
They quit the cavern, view again the sun,
And, now emerging, see Battalions there
To hail them issuing upwards to the air.
As forth they come quick flashes round them shine
Midst flames arise The Victors of the Mine!
They've learnt its course, their counterworks are sure!
The Tower France came to sap remains secure,
Still loftily o'erlooks the neighbouring deep,
Still its long shadows o'er the billows sweep,
Amidst the day send forth unreal night,
Its vastness stretching on the distant sight.
As, glorious though in flight, they sought the Main
The valiant W RIGHT sunk wounded on the plain.
Between this World and Death, the misty line
Placed as Life's Barrier by the hand divine
His soul had touch'd! when cordial pity flew
And back to Earth his wavering Spirit drew.
D OUGLAS its minister, to whose high heart
Feeling and Courage equal warmth impart,
Defying danger caught him from the foe,
And, saved from death, his cheeks with health soon glow.

The Ravelin's progress gallic arms oppose,
Yet midst attacks their crescents boldly rose.
Their sturdy aid contribute venturous Turks,
Who seize materials from th' invaders works!
Each side the foe's approach the cannon roar,
Incessant thunders die along the shore,
That their own cannon thus their ranks laid low
Encreased their fury, heavier made the blow!
The fleet of H ASSAN , long delayed, appear'd,
Towards the Mole the throng'd Corvettes were steer'd,
To gain the Town before the B EY could land
Was the high point, for numerous was his band.
Battalions of Reserve the Camp now leave
Distinguish'd glory hoping to atchieve,
Their eyes dart hope, sure Victory declare
As gaudy ensigns hurry through the air.
Whilst Hassan's Troops are still of winds the sport
The Troops of France spring forward to the Fort!
Now Victory seems impartially employed,
Each side is beaten, each side half destroyed.
Here, conquest on the bulwarks seems to reign,
There, the bold Sortie riots o'er the plain,
If, rashly, cries of Triumph Syrians shout,
Their foes as rashly deem commenced the rout!
For Victory sports now on capricious wings,
O'er Syria bends, or aid to Gallia brings.
Here, flurried troops confuse their mingled arms
As shifting files are urged by new alarms,
There, steady musketry in Vollies roars,
Or from a Line unbroken ceaseless pours.
All less fear's lost, in greater that appals
As England's ravelins fire their deadly balls
From Guns that, level to the Gallic flank,
Annihilation shot along the rank.
Soft Twilight's gentle mission came in vain,
No more the Signal now to quit the plain,
And soon the Night her shades more thickly threw
And hid creation from the tortured view.
But, raging Battle gives its own dread light!
From Roofs on fire flames flash upon the sight,
Amidst the vast of sable aether soar
The dismal dirges of the cannon's roar,
In flames sent forth in curving flight Shells glow,
And Death's own beams his frequent murders show!
The Sea's black surges catch the lurid ray,
And every billow foams with fiery spray,
Here Waves terrific drown the cannon's roar,
Sinuous roll along and sparkle up the shore,
There, mounts of aqueous flame arrest the sight,
And Ocean heaves its H ECKLAS on the night,
Now, on their points the vessels seem to burn,
Or down Abysses dark to overturn,
Unquench'd the glowing masts again aspire,
The men ascending ropes of tortuous fire.
On shore, the Palms deception lift in air
And branchy Sycamores unhurtful glare.
Quick floods of flame bring out each darken'd hill,
Their rough contours with transient radiance fill,
And gleam down every slope point every line,
And each sharp ridge with pencil'd fire define.
They pierce the Gloom which hover'd o'er the slain,
Revealing those who writhe convulsed with pain,
Here showing men who heave with doubtful Life,
There — where last Agonies have closed the strife!
The moans of pain are floating through the air,
The shrieks of Torture, groans of deep Despair!
That scene excites too torturous a sigh,
Where, as men kill, they're slain — by others who must die!

Yet midst these Horrors, England coolly brave
Fought as triumphantly as on the wave!
The Sons of Albion glow amidst the fight,
And seek their foes out shrouded in the night,
Pursue, as forest lions do, by Ear,
Each, like the Lion, knowing not a fear!
As now the broken gloom of yielding night
Through inlets gave uncertain rays of light,
They saw above a batter'd Tower displayed
A Flag with conquest's hated colours ray'd!
The Flag of France wide o'er the ramparts flew,
Insulting stream'd upon the Britons' view!
— Dear-purchased Trophy! O, to place thee there
What gallant Spirits float now on the air!
Friendship, Ambition, Love, extinguish'd all
As from thy staff the stricken Warriors fall!
Throughout the night the Tower was fiercely storm'd,
Across the Ditch dread Traverses were formed,
To shield their passage, Traverses wherein
The Corses of their dead the French built in!
Thus far their hopes atchieved and labours crown'd,
War's Transports fill'd their breasts on conquer'd ground!
At distance rowing through the boisterous Bay,
The Boats of Hassan slowly made their way,
Surcharged with Troops. The hour was that of Fate,
All might be lost, the succour come too late!
The Tower halffallen bridged the neighbouring trench,
And made a sloping path-way for the French!
The English Leader with commanding eye
Sees where the Danger where the Hazards lie
And leads his Sailors quickly to the Mole,
A glorious Rivalship swells each man's soul,
They pass the Postern, where the Syrians throng,
All hail'd Preservers as they rush along!
Prompt to the shatter'd tower the English fly
Whilst loud Huzzas of Victory pierce the sky!
The French resign the conquest of the hour
As the bold Sailors mount the shatter'd Tower,
Seize and reverse the haughty Flag that France
As proof of capture had presumed t'advance!
Though awed, th' assaulters struggle up the Breach,
But, all who come within a Sailor's reach
Feel the strong purchase of his ready Pike
Within the Breast or through the Helmet strike.
Nor do the Syrians' weighty missiles fail,
With which the rising warriors they assail,
Who reel, and tumbling down the slope impel
The next advancing on the last who fell!
The Plain below sends upwards fresh supplies,
Successions doom'd to fall, with boldness rise.
Thus, when in boisterous storms the Seas awake,
And billows sinking billows overtake,
With curling tops the frothy monsters storm
The jutting Rock's impending craggy form,
The Rock, unstir'd amidst the raging foam,
Strikes wave on wave, and sinks them to their Tomb.
Smoothly majestic, full upon the Sight
Of those maintaining on the walls the fight,
Mount C oeUR DE L ION boldly rose, the hill
Its name, in Ages past, continues still.
There B ONAPARTE was station'd. On the Breach
Stood S IDNEY S MITH . — Oh! whose the mental reach
To shew how flowed the Thoughts in either brain
As glance met glance athwart the martial plain,
The Form of either pressing on the view
As each the other's stern Attention drew!
Thus stood two men, in Courage, Zeal, the same
But! each as anxious of a different Fame
As the two Seraphs, heading each their Host,
To Milton vision'd on the heavenly coast!
The honest generous courage of his bands
Directing from the Tower, brave Sidney stands.
Aloof from friends, who range in crescent form,
Stands Bonaparte, the Regent of the storm,
On Richard's Mount; but, not as Richard stood,
To Heaven pouring tributary blood,
To serve the Holy Faith, whose glorious sun
First rising here o'er all the Earth hath run!
No! but t'insult it in its native bed,
Where still its rays, in gleams obtuse, are shed.
His actions Vehemence and Wrath declare,
Your toil he cries, nor life, ye frenchmen spare,
Speed to the Camp, be all its engines rolled
Towards the Wall a Portal to unfold.
The British Chief upon the Tower remained,
His lofty mind to utmost Effort strain'd,
His eye excursive all the field embraced,
His sword the Sceptre of the bleeding waste!
Where'er it pointed, there the battle burst,
New strength it gave, reviving courage nursed.
On Sidney's safety Acre's weal depends,
The time-blanch'd G HEZAR to the breach ascends,
Anxious from terror on his arm he hung
And round the Warrior obstinately clung.
Forbear, he cried, from further risk abstain,
Retire and greet our Transports from the Main,
At you alone now whole Battalions aim,
To Achmet listen and to Syria's claim!
Soon as their eyes these generous contests reach
A rush of eager Turks secured the breach.
The Veteran guides now to the busy bay
Where crouded vessels fill the watery way.
O'er the full tide along the curving shore
The boats of Hassan spread, the eager oar
Its silver flashes up the shelving sands,
And fresh'ning wind each swelling sail expands.
Heroic valour beaming in his face
Sidney advances, and, with martial grace,
Receives the soldiers as they spring to land,
And hails and welcomes each advancing band.
His Eye inspires them, as the shores they reach
And hail him Guardian Genius of the Beach!
His figure new, but long revered his name
Beholding him the Turks catch martial flame,
The voice that hail'd them animated too,
The hand that touch'd them emulation threw
From its own nerve to every torpid heart,
They greet th'inspiring power his welcomes thus impart.
Meanwhile, the slow french battering trains arrive.
The ponderous engines heavily they drive,
Half the sunk frames th'absorbing sand conceals,
All nearly motionless the stubborn wheels.
Tough sinew'd horses, struggling with the road,
To panting efforts, with their arms, they goad.
Brought up at length, before the Ditch they stand,
With each dread engine an attendant Band
Who guide them, drag them, force them, to the part
Where weakness yields and splinter'd fractures start.
These thunder at the Walls, those reach the Tower,
One aims aloft, one sends the mischief lower,
This an Ellipsis makes, that darts a line
True as the Telescope's whose aim divine
For Herschell searches some discover'd sun
Or finds where planets their Aphelion run.
The Catapults, the Battering Rams, of Rome,
Whose blows made every hostile town a Tomb,
Exciting terror at Earth's utmost bound,
All their great powers in force mechanic found;
But their Celebrity from memory fades,
Howitzers, Cannons, Mortars, Carronades,
Their Strength, by chemic energy, surpass,
And, in their Swiftness, greater powers amass.
Ere the hot Sun with strait and downward ray
Had reach'd the scorching hours of middle day,
The Wall's whole front corroding balls deformed,
North of the Tower so long so vainly stormed.
Broad ope'd the Chasm, loud the rumbling fall,
The Fortress trembled as rush'd down the wall,
With sudden Crash the Bulwark toppling came,
All lost in dust, in thundering roar, and flame!
A Pause, an aweful, silent, pause succeeds,
The Gauls, so long delayed, distrust their deeds!
Then, length'ning shouts of Triumph roll around,
The neighbouring Mountains every shout rebound,
To fill the cry each vies with loudest note,
An Army's Triumphs in the concave float!
As the thick clouds of dust their veil withdrew
The Town was slowly open'd to their view!
The Streets, the Mosques, the Palaces, arise
And glad the rapt besiegers searching eyes.
The Britons there with Turks and Syrians stand,
And wait th'approach of the successful Band.
On the Pleine terre , by blooming gardens bound,
Their ranks extended guard the verdant ground,
On the Defensive they're prepared to fight,
Nor march'd to charge, nor shunn'd th'invaders sight.
Continued Battle had exhausted all,
For pause, till Eve, the troops on both sides call,
The foe resolved to rest, the breach atchieved
Of rest will now no longer be bereaved!
When, all around, a threat'ning whirlwind dread
Prepares its ruin o'er the land to spread,
An aweful Stillness lulls the Region round
O'er structures Fate will level with the ground!
All creatures near with prescience cringe to Earth
All, in deep terror, wait the whirlwind's birth!
Such seem'd the Silence that hush'd all the plain
That lately witness'd Battle's boist'rous reign,
All Calm terrific! still and aweful pause
Destruction's prelude oft by nature's laws.

The Sun's vast caverns, as it sunk below,
With lurid threat'ning flames appear'd to glow,
And Rock-work, fretted o'er with blood-red dies,
In heated glowing masses seem'd to rise.
Midst these the Source of Light pursued its way,
Earth sadly pensive at departing day!
Now, from a deep Defile, to Acre's Gate
A Column moved in military state.
The issuing pomp majestically rose,
And thwait the noiseless plain its shadow throws.
The Sun behind advanced them on the gaze,
Relieved and taller from its level rays,
In growing darkness it pursued its route,
Sublimely aweful lengthening came out!
No Brightness to the pendent gorgets clung,
No sheets of Radiance o'er the armour hung,
Yet twinkling lights the shifting spear heads caught,
And with short Gleams the Bayonets were fraught.
The beams a thousand ways shot cross and cross,
And quivering stars from point to point they toss.
In Arab Desarts thus, on anxious eyes
Vast sandy Pillars luminous arise,
No steady flame upon their fronts they bear,
But, midst their gloom, quick Lights capricious glare,
Wild Lustres through their stalking columns glide,
As on, the bright Destructions slowly ride.
The Caravan uneasy wait their fate,
For Death to many brings the Beauteous State!
In numerous bosoms dread foreboding chills
They know too well th' advancing Splendor kills!
Now Bonaparte the Breach compleated shows,
" I know, exclaim'd, each heart to reach it glows;
Frenchmen! where Britons move expend your rage
Till extirpation shall its thirst assuage!
Obtain The Garden, Conquerors obtain,
Or ne'er behold again your native plain! "
The French seek slaughter with incentive joy
Vengeance their bliss, their Rapture to destroy!
Whilst anxious Acre, not exempt from dread,
Their firm March watches, as they swifter tread.
They wait an army, proud, revengeful, brave,
Which comes with hope to make the Fort a grave,
But, British Tars advance! the mass inspire,
Their lowering rage to steady valour fire.
Their Fortitude returns, they dare the view,
In firm resolve, all that man may, they'll do.
The Garden of the fort was doom'd the spot
To hold in dread Suspension Syria's lot!
Asia and Gallia, met within that pale,
Must tempt their Fate till one of them shall fail.
Ghezar resolved that some might pass the Breach,
The Garden, vainly hoping capture, reach,
That there, by Turkish modes of warfare met,
They might to storm be taught no more to threat.
With prescience dread War's Fiends ascend the air!
And hovering high, midst Evening's glories flare,
Thence downward in a sanguine vapour shot,
They sink unseen around the destined spot,
The scent of Blood approaching there they quaff,
And clap their blood-shot wings, and big with horror laugh.
The Massive Column now had passed the Plain,
Close to the town advanced the shouting train,
There the fallen Bulwarks spacious entrance show'd,
O'er their late living friends their dreadful road!
Uncheck'd, they pass the wall they lately storm'd
And see the English in the Garden formed.
With them alone, at first, the foes engage,
Who, by distinction pleas'd, soon turn their rage.
They dart upon the Turk, wind round the trees,
The shelter'd Turk his sanguine hunter sees
And springs to meet him! either hand is arm'd,
His foe by double weapons is alarmed.
He who avoids the tranchant Sabre's blow
Aim'd by the parried Right hand of his foe,
Feels the prompt dagger of his practised Left
And thus, unguarded, is of life bereft!
As thick'ning Shades the eager eyes confound
By dubious vision, grow mistakes around.
The difference of garb unskill'd to trace,
As much of variance deep'ning glooms efface,
The turban'd warriors Friends mistake for Foes,
And aim, at those they'd worship, deadly blows.
Where Sidney's Sabre falls, they think they know
The gallic General's quick descending blow.
'Tis our dread Enemy himself, they cry!
Rush through the shades, and at the Briton fly.
All speech were useless, he's compell'd to force
The mad'ning Islams to retrace their course.
Through Courage cool, his Aim was always just,
He parried all, yet spared a deadly thrust.
Where winged choristers were used to dwell,
The ear delighting by melodious swell,
Now tones of Anguish fill the leafy Quires,
As man, destroyed by fellow man, expires.
The Fountains which their rainbow jewels threw
Lustrous and sparkling on the morning's view,
Resplendent jewels now bestow no more,
With foul streams taint the alabaster floor.
Defiled the myrtle haunts, there horror roves,
Danger reigns here, Fate riots in the Groves.
Now, faint and staggering from a deadly wound,
Some on the beds of snowy Lillies swoon'd,
The streaming life imparting crimson hue
The Lillies blush'd as pale the heroes grew.
There, midst the roses, others fall to die,
Breathing, in fragrant air, their latest sigh,
As round a Victim streams of incense rise
Whilst on the Altar, bound with flowers, he lies.
Long had endured the tumults of the fight
E'er burst conviction on th' assaulter's sight.
In paths no longer trod the heap'd up slain
The contest's issue dreadfully explain!
They saw that all was lost! they saw and fled,
The earth left loaded with deserted dead.
Strait up th' ascent they spring, in dreadful throng,
And life, by rushing on the plain, prolong.
'Twas here two Generals own'd War's equal hand,
Both fighting fell, R OMBAUD made fatal stand,
And sunk a Corse where late he towering trod,
And L ASNE was borne half living from the sod.
The Troops that conquer'd elsewhere, beaten here,
When met by England own the reign of fear,
Escape in straggling parties o'er the plain,
Glad to reach shelter in their camp again.
Thus did " The Battle Of The Garden " close,
And thus fled Bonaparte before his foes.