| |
| THROUGH all Iberia, from the Atlantic shores | |
| To far Pyrene, Wellington hath left | |
| His trophies; but no monument records | |
| To after-time a more enduring praise | |
| Than this which marks his triumph here attained | 5 |
| By intellect, and patience to the end | |
| Holding through good and ill its course assigned, | |
| The stamp and seal of greatness. Here the chief | |
| Perceived in foresight Lisbon’s sure defence, | |
| A vantage-ground for all reverse prepared, | 10 |
| Where Portugal and England might defy | |
| All strength of hostile numbers. Not for this | |
| Of hostile enterprise did he abate, | |
| Or gallant purpose: witness the proud day | |
| Which saw Soult’s murderous host from Porto driven; | 15 |
| Bear witness, Talavera, made by him | |
| Famous forever; and that later fight | |
| When from Busaco’s solitude the birds, | |
| Then first affrighted in their sanctuary, | |
| Fled from the thunders and the fires of war. | 20 |
| But when Spain’s feeble counsels, in delay | |
| As erring as in action premature, | |
| Had left him in the field without support, | |
| And Bonaparté, having trampled down | |
| The strength and pride of Austria, this way turned | 25 |
| His single thought and undivided power, | |
| Retreating hither the great general came; | |
| And proud Massena, when the boastful chief | |
| Of plundered Lisbon dreamt, here found himself | |
| Stopped suddenly in his presumptuous course. | 30 |
| From Ericeyra on the western sea, | |
| By Mafra’s princely convent, and the heights | |
| Of Montichique, and Bucellas famed | |
| For generous vines, the formidable works | |
| Extending, rested on the guarded shores | 35 |
| Of Tagus, that rich river who received | |
| Into his ample and rejoicing port | |
| The harvests and the wealth of distant lands, | |
| Secure, insulting with the glad display | |
| The robber’s greedy sight. Five months the foe | 40 |
| Beheld these lines, made inexpugnable | |
| By perfect skill, and patriot feelings here | |
| With discipline conjoined, courageous hands, | |
| True spirits, and one comprehensive mind | |
| All overseeing and pervading all. | 45 |
| Five months, tormenting still his heart with hope, | |
| He saw his projects frustrated; the power | |
| Of the blaspheming tyrant whom he served | |
| Fail in the proof; his thousands disappear, | |
| In silent and inglorious war consumed; | 50 |
| Till hence retreating, maddened with despite, | |
| Here did the self-styled Son of Victory leave, | |
| Never to be redeemed, that vaunted name. | |
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