III.

Believe me, while in bed you lay,

Your danger taught us how to pray;

You made us all devouter :

eye

Each look'd up

and seem'd to say,

"How can we do without her?"

IV.

Besides (which vex'd us worse) we knew
They had no need of such as you

In the place where you were going.
This world has Angels all too few,

And Heav'n is overflowing.

LABERIUS.

The BATTLE of BLENHEIM.

By ROBERT SOUTHEY.

I.

It was a summer evening,
Old Kaspar's work was done;
And he before his cottage door
Was sitting in the sun,
And by him sported on the green
His little grandchild Wilhelmine.

II.

She saw her brother Peterkin

Roll something large and round,

That he beside the rivulet

In playing there had found;

He came to ask what he had found,

That was so large, and smooth, and round.

III.

Old Kaspar took it from the boy
Who stood expectant by ;

And then the old man shook his head,

And with a natural sigh,

'Tis some poor fellow's scull, said he, Who fell in the great victory.

IV.

I find them in the garden, for
There's many here about,

And often when I go to plough,

The ploughshare turns them out; For many thousand men, said he, Were slain in the great victory.

V.

Now tell us what 'twas all about,
Young Peterkin he cries,

And little Wilhelmine looks up

With wonder-waiting eyes;

Now tell us all about the war,

And what they kill'd each other for.

VI.

It was the English, Kaspar cried,
That put the French to rout;
But what they kill'd each other for,
I could not well make out.

But every body said, quoth he,
That 'twas a famous victory.

VII.

My father lived at Blenheim then,
Yon little stream hard by,

They burnt his dwelling to the ground
And he was forced to fly;

So with his wife and child he fled,
Nor had he where to rest his head

VIII.

With fire and sword the country round Was wasted far and wide,

And many a childing mother then,

And new-born infant died.

But things like that, you know, must be At every famous victory.

IX.

They say it was a shocking sight
After the field was won,
For many thousand bodies here

Lay rotting in the sun;

But things like that you know must be After a famous victory.

X.

Great praise the Duke of Marlbro' won,
And our good Prince Eugene.
Why 'twas a very wicked thing!
Said little Wilhelmine.

Nay-nay-my little girl, quoth he,
It was a famous victory.

XI.

And every body praised the Duke
Who such a fight did win.

But what good came of it at last?

Quoth little Peterkin.

Why that I cannot tell, said he,
But 'twas a famous victory.