1805.8
Dirge
On the Death of Lord Nelson
Anon
The Morning Chronicle (November 8, 1805)

Why o'er the dark and troubled deep
    Is heard at times a mournful noise;
While Victors midst their triumphs weep,
    The vanquish'd in their fall rejoice!

Why burst the sobs of yonder Tars,
    But now triumphant o'er the foe;
Unmindful of their gory scars,
    Their tears that now first learn to flow?

For NELSON'S death their tears are shed,
    And grief alone their thoughts employs;
Ev'n Vict'ry's self reclines her head,
    And weeping checks her wonted joys.

Thy deeds, great Chief, shall be the theme,
    Afar on Ganges' hallow'd shores;
While Niagara's lightening stream,
    Thy dreaded name in thunder roars.

Stern MARS, as 'midst the fight he raves,
    Shall ev'ry dreadful peal prolong;
And NEPTUNE roll his gory waves,
    To sound their fav'rite's fun'ral song.

And while on high her Warrior's tomb
    Thy weeping country grateful rears;
Thy laurels o'er it e'er shall bloom,
    Still water'd by a Nation's tears.