Saturday, April 6, 2013

The Soldier at Home (1781)

The Soldier at Home (1781)

From noise of camps once more I come,
To snatch from care a short repose;
All hail thou tranquil much lov'd home,
That war nor dread misfortune knows.

Thus, far remov'd from hostile bands,
May'st thou heart-pleasing home remain;
Curs'd be the murderous foreign hands
That dare with blood thy bosom stain.

Oh haste, ye generous few I love,
Again in social converse join;
With me the sweets of friendship prove,
And to the winds your cares resign.

But oh ! to recollect how soon
The period comes that bids me hence;
A sadd'ning momentary gloom
Steals half my joys, and clouds my sense.

But why indulge that care-mix'd thought ?
The happy day may yet arrive,
When tyranny shall fall to nought,
And liberty alone survive.

Then with my friends in jocund mood,
I'll tell what dangers have been mine;
And how Americans have stood
At Germantown and Brandywine.

Here we'll remember martial Gates,
He taught the proud Burgoyne to yield;
Who frowning at his adverse fates,
Surrender'd on the well fought field.

Then each gay friend shall swell the tale,
With hardy deeds of bold emprise;
Again he sees our arms prevail,
And long-lost ardors now arise.

Here Howe, says he, (and marks the track,)
The British troops did proudly form;
And here with adverse lines compact,
Brave Washington did swell the storm.

'Twas here I was, and points the spot,
(As he had trac├Ęd on the ground,)
What bursts of thunder, showers of shot,
Yet there great Washington was found.

At Monmouth's plains, where Lee retreated,
Great Washington did then push on;
Sir Harry's chosen troops defeated,
Then laugh'd his tyranny to scorn.

These happy days are yet to come,
Then why repine at such a fate;
Bear well the woe that is your doom,
And joy can never come too late.

No comments:

Post a Comment