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246 THE GOLDEN TREASURY OF |
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As prized as is the blessing
From an aged father's lip — As welcome as the haven
To the tempest-driven ship — As dear as to the lover " The smile of gentle maid — Is this day of long-sought vengeance To the swords of the Brigade.
See their shattered forces flying,
A broken, routed line — See, England, what brave laurels
For your brow to-day we twine. Oh, thrice blest the hour that witnessed
The Briton turn to flee From the chivalry of Erin,
And France's fleur-de-lis.
As we lay beside our camp-fires,
When the sun had passed away, And thought upon our brethren
That had perished in the fray— We prayed to God to grant us,
And then we'd die with joy, One day upon our own dear land
Like this of Fontenoy. |
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