Poems in Two Volumes, Volume 1: XXV - Anticipation

XXV - Anticipation

October, 1803.
  Shout, for a mighty Victory is won!
  On British ground the Invaders are laid low;
  The breath of Heaven has drifted them like snow,
  And left them lying in the silent sun,
  Never to rise again!--the work is done.
  Come forth, ye Old Men, now in peaceful show
  And greet your Sons! drums beat, and trumpets blow!
  Make merry, Wives! ye little Children stun
  Your Grandame's ears with pleasure of your noise!
  Clap, Infants, clap your hands! Divine must be
  That triumph, when the very worst, the pain,
  And even the prospect of our Brethren slain,
  Hath something in it which the heart enjoys:--
  In glory will they sleep and endless sanctity.

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