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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=539510" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>O D E, To a Lady on the Death of Colonel R O S S in the action of Fontenoy</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">1.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">W H I L E, lost to all his former Mirth, <br>Britannia's Genius bends to Earth, <br> And mourns the fatal Day: <br>While stain's with Blood he strives to tear <br>Unseemly from his Sea-green Hair <br> The Wreaths of chearful May:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">2.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Thoughts which musing Pity pays, <br>And fond Remembrance loves to raise, <br> Your faithful Hours attend: <br>Still Fancy to Herself unkind, <br>Awakes to Grief the soften'd Mind, <br> And points the bleeding Friend.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">3.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">By rapid Scheld's descending Wave <br>His Country's Vows shall bless the Grave, <br> Where'er the Youth is laid: <br>That sacred Spot the Village Hind <br>With ev'ry sweetest Turf shall bind, <br> And Peace protect the Shade.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">4.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Blest Youth, regardful of thy Doom, <br>Aërial Hands shall build thy Tomb, <br> With shadowy Trophies crown'd: <br>Whilst Honor bath'd in Tears shall rove <br>To sigh thy Name thro' ev'ry Grove, <br> And call his Heros round.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">5.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The warlike Dead of ev'ry Age, <br>Who fill the fair recording Page, <br> Shall leave their sainted Rest: <br>And, half-reclining on his Spear, <br>Each wond'ring Chief by turns appear, <br> To hail the blooming Guest.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">6.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Old Edward's Sons, unknown to yield, <br>Shall croud from Cressy's laurell'd Field, <br> And gaze with fix'd Delight: <br>Again for Britain's Wrongs they feel, <br>Again they snatch the gleamy Steel, <br> And wish th'avenging Fight.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">7.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But lo where, sunk in deep Despair, <br>Her Garments torn, her Bosom bare, <br> Impatient Freedom lies! <br>Her matted Tresses madly spread, <br>To ev'ry Sod, which warps the Dead, <br> She turns her joyless Eyes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">8.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ne'er shall she leave that lowly Ground <br>Till Notes of Triumph bursting round <br> Proclaim her Reign restor'd: <br>Till William seek the sad Retreat, <br>And bleeding at her sacred Feet, <br> Present the sated Sword.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">9.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">If, weak to sooth so soft an Heart, <br>These pictur'd Glories nought impart, <br> To dry thy constant Tear: <br>If yet, in Sorrow's distant Eye, <br>Expos'd and pale thou see'st him lie, <br> Wild War insulting near:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">10.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Where'er from Time Thou court'st Relief. <br>The Muse shall still, with social Grief, <br> Her gentlest Promise keep: <br>Ev'n humble Harting's cottag'd Vale <br>Shall learn the sad repeated Tale, <br> And bid her Shepherds weep.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=William+Taylor+Collins">William Taylor Collins</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=539510" data-title="O D E, To a Lady on the Death of Colonel R O S S in the action of Fontenoy de William Taylor Collins" data-description="1.

W H I L E, lost to all his former Mirth, 
Britannia's Genius bends to Earth, 
 And mourns the fatal Day: 
While stain's with Blood he strives to tear 
Unseemly from his Sea-green Hair 
 The Wreaths of chearful May:

2.

The Thoughts which musi..."></div>
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