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| Vanguard of Liberty, ye men of Kent, Ye children of a Soil that doth advance Her haughty brow against the coast of France, Now is the time to prove your hardiment! To France be words of invitation sent! They from their fields can see the countenance Of your fierce war, may ken the glittering lance And hear you shouting forth your brave intent. Left single, in bold parley, ye, of yore, Did from the Norman win a gallant wreath; Confirmed the charters that were yours before;— No parleying now! In Britain is one breath; We all are with you now from shore to shore:— Ye men of Kent, 'tis victory or death! Contents 1803 Main Contents |
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'Then those of Kent, unconquered of the rest,
That to this day maintain their ancient right.'
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| Six thousand veterans practised in war's game, Tried men, at Killicranky were arrayed Against an equal host that wore the plaid, Shepherds and herdsmen.—Like a whirlwind came The Highlanders, the slaughter spread like flame; And Garry, thundering down his mountain-road, Was stopped, and could not breathe beneath the load Of the dead bodies.—'Twas a day of shame For them whom precept and the pedantry Of cold mechanic battle do enslave. O for a single hour of that Dundee, Who on that day the word of onset gave! Like conquest would the Men of England see; And her Foes find a like inglorious grave. Note Contents 1803 Main Contents |
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"Thursday, September 8th.—Before breakfast we walked to the Pass of Killicrankie. A very fine scene; the river Garry forcing its way down a deep chasm between rocks, at the foot of high rugged hills covered with wood, to a great height. The pass did not, however, impress us with awe, or a sensation of difficulty or danger, according to our expectations; but, the road being at a considerable height on the side of the hill, we at first only looked into the dell or chasm. It is much grander seen from below, near the river's bed. Everybody knows that this Pass is famous in military history. When we were travelling in Scotland, an invasion was hourly looked for, and one could not but think with some regret of the times when, from the now depopulated Highlands forty or fifty thousand men might have been poured down for the defence of the country, under such leaders as the Marquis of Montrose or the brave man who had so distinguished himself upon the ground where we were standing. I will transcribe a sonnet suggested to William by this place, and written in Oct. 1803."
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| 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. Note Contents 1803 Main Contents |
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MS. 1803. And in The Poetical Register, 1803. |
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MS. 1803. And in The Poetical Register, 1803. |
"all the male population of the kingdom from seventeen years of age to fifty-five were divided into classes to be successively armed and exercised" (Dyer).
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| Come ye—who, if (which Heaven avert!) the Land Were with herself at strife, would take your stand, Like gallant Falkland, by the Monarch's side, And, like Montrose, make Loyalty your pride— Come ye—who, not less zealous, might display Banners at enmity with regal sway, And, like the Pyms and Miltons of that day, Think that a State would live in sounder health If Kingship bowed its head to Commonwealth— Ye too—whom no discreditable fear Would keep, perhaps with many a fruitless tear, Uncertain what to choose and how to steer— And ye—who might mistake for sober sense And wise reserve the plea of indolence— Come ye—whate'er your creed—O waken all, Whate'er your temper, at your Country's call; Resolving (this a free-born Nation can) To have one Soul, and perish to a man, Or save this honoured Land from every Lord But British reason and the British sword. Contents 1803 Main Contents |
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| 1802 | ← | end of Volume II: 1803 |
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