IS there one heart that beats on English ground, | |
| One grateful spirit in the kingdoms round; | |
| One who had traced the progress of the foe, | |
| And does not hail the field of Waterloo? | |
| Who o’er that field, if but in thought, has gone, | 5 |
| Without a grateful wish for Wellington? | |
| |
| Within that field of glory rose a tree | |
| (Which a fair hand has given us here to see), | |
| A noble tree, that, pierced by many a ball, | |
| Fell not,—decreed in time of peace to fall: | 10 |
| Nor shall it die unsung; for there shall be | |
| In many a noble verse the praise of thee, | |
| With that heroic chief,—renowned and glorious tree! | |
| |
| Men shall divide thee, and thy smallest part | |
| Shall be to warm and stir the English heart; | 15 |
| Formed into shapes as fancy may design, | |
| In all fair fame and honor shall be thine. | |
| The noblest ladies in the land with joy | |
| Shall own thy value in the slightest toy; | |
| Preserved through life, it shall a treasure prove, | 20 |
| And left to friends, a legacy of love. | |
| |
| And thou, fair semblance of that tree sublime, | |
| Shalt a memorial be to distant time; | |
| Shalt wake a grateful sense in every heart, | |
| And noble thoughts to opening minds impart; | 25 |
| Who shall hereafter learn what deeds were done, | |
| What nations freed by Heaven and Wellington. | |
| |
| Heroic tree we surely this may call,— | |
| Wounded it fell, and numbers mourned its fall; | |
| It fell for many here, but there it stood for all. | 30 |
| |
