CANTO VIII. I. OH blood and thunder! and oh blood and wounds! These are but vulgar oaths, as you may deem, Too gentle reader! and most shocking sounds: And so they are; yet thus is Glory's dream Unriddled, and as my true Muse expounds At present such things, since they are her theme, So be they the inspirers! Call them Mars, Bellona, what you will-they mean but wars. II. All was prepared-the fire, the sword, the men The army, like a lion from his den, March'd forth with nerve and sinews bent to slay,A human Hydra, issuing from his fen To breathe destruction on its winding way, Whose heads were heroes, which cut off in vain, Immediately in others grew again. III. History can only take things in the gross; War's merit it by no means might enhance, To waste so much gold for a little dross, As hath been done, mere conquest to advance. The drying up a single tear has more Of honest fame, than shedding seas of gore. IV. And why? because it brings self-approbation; Though they may make Corruption gape or stare, V. And such they are-and such they will be found. Whose every battle-field is holy ground, [done. VI. The night was dark, and the thick mist allow'd And in the Danube's waters shone the same, VII. The column order'd on the assault scarce pass'd Beyond the Russian batteries a few toises, When up the bristling Moslem rose at last, Answering the Christian thunders with like voices Then one vast fire, air, earth, and stream embraced, Which rock'd as 'twere beneath the mighty noises; While the whole rampart blazed like Etna, when The restless Titan hiccups in his den. VIII. And one enormous shout of "Allah!" rose Hurling defiance: city, stream, and shore Resounded "Allah!" and the clouds, which close With thickening canopy the conflict o'er, Vibrate to the Eternal name. Hark! through All sounds it pierceth, "Allah! Allah! Hu!"'! IX. The columns were in movement, one and all: But, of the portion which attack'd by water, Thicker than leaves the lives began to fall, [ter, Though led by Arseniew, that great son of slaugh As brave as ever faced both boom and ball. "Carnage (so Wordsworth tells you) is God's daughter: If he speak truth, she is Christ's sister, and Just now behaved as in the Holy Land. X. The Prince de Ligne was wounded in the knee; Count Chapeau-Bras, too, had a ball between His cap and head, which proves the head to be Aristocratic as was ever seen, Because it then received no injury More than the cap; in fact the ball could mean No harm unto a right legitimate head: "Ashes to ashes "-why not lead to lead? XI. Also the General Markow, Brigadier, The General Markow, who could thus evince Three hundred cannon threw up their emetic, Mortality! thou hast thy monthly bills; XIII. There the still varying pangs, which multiply XIV. Yet I love glory; glory's a great thing; Which is still better; thus in verse to wage The troops, already disembark'd, push'd on XVI. And this was admirable; for so hot The fire was, that were red Vesuvius loaded, Besides its lava, with all sorts of shot And shells, or hells, it could not more have goaded. Of officers, a third fell on the spot, A thing which victory by no means boded To gentlemen engaged in the assault: XXI. Though 'twas Don Juan's first of fields, and though XXII. Indeed he could not. But what if he had? Or hawk, or bride, most mortals, after one XXIII. He was what Erin calls, in her sublime Which settles all things, Romans, Greek, or Runic, Hounds, when the huntsman tumbles, are at fault. As any other notion, and not national;)— XVII. But here I leave the general concern, To track our hero on his path of fame: XVIII. And therefore we must give the greater number XXIV. But Juan was quite "a broth of a boy," Or the sensation, (if that phrase seem wrong,) In such good company as always throng To battles, sieges, and that kind of pleasure, No less delighted to employ his leisure; XXV. But always without malice. If he warr'd Their clay for the last time their souls encumber;-The statesman, hero, harlot, lawyer-ward Off each attack when people are in quest I almost lately have begun to doubt Whether hell's pavement-if it be so pavedMust not have latterly been quite worn out, Not by the numbers good intent hath saved, But by the mass who go below without Those ancient good intentions, which once shaved And smooth'd the brimstone of that street of hell Which bears the greatest likeness to Pall Mall. XXVII. Juan, by some strange chance, which oft divides XXVIII. I don't know how the thing occurr'd-it might About; a circumstance which has confounded Of his whole army, which so much abounded In courage, was obliged to snatch a shield And rally back his Romans to the field. XXIX. Juan, who had no shield to snatch, and was Stopp'd for a minute, as perhaps he ought Perhaps may find it better than a new one :)— XXX. Then, like an ass, he went upon his way, Over the hills, a fire enough to blind XXXI. Perceiving then no more the commandant Of his own corps, nor even the corps, which had It was not marvellous that a mere lad, XXXII. Perceiving nor commander nor commanded, So Juan, following honor and his nose, By Jove! he was a noble fellow, Johnson, Her steady breath, (which some months the same Rush'd where the thickest fire announced most foes. And could be very busy without bustle: XLII. That daily shilling which makes warriors tough)They found on their return the self-same welcome, Which made some think, and others know, a hell come. XLIII. They fell as thick as harvests beneath hail, Grass before scythes, or corn below the sickle, Proving that trite old truth, that life's as frail As any other boon for which men stickle. The Turkish batteries thrash'd them like a flail, Or a good boxer, into a sad pickle, Putting the very bravest, who were knock'd Upon the head before their guns were cock'd. XLIV. The Turks, behind the traverses and flanks Of the next bastion, fired away like devils, And swept, as gales sweep foam away, whole ranks: However, Heaven knows how, the Fate who levels Towns, nations, worlds, in her revolving pranks, So order'd it, amid these sulphury revels, That Johnson, and some few who had not scamper'd, Reach'd the interior talus of the rampart. XLV. First one or two, then five, six, and a dozen, Came mounting quickly up, for it was now All neck or nothing, as, like pitch or rosin, XLIX And that if Blucher, Bulow, Gneisenau, The Duke of Wellington had ceased to show But never mind;-"God save the king!" and kings I think I hear a little bird, who sings, LI. At first it grumbles, then it swears, and then But to continue:-I say not the first, But of the first, our little friend Don Juan Walk'd o'er the walls of Ismail, as if nursed fone Amid such scenes-though this was quite a new Flame was shower'd forth above as well's below, So that you scarce could say who best had chosen,-To him, and I should hope to most. The thirst The gentlemen that were the first to show Their martial faces on the parapet, Or those who thought it brave to wait as yet. XLVI. But those who scaled found out that their advance Just named, these palisades were primly set: XLVII. So that on either side some nine or ten Paces were left, whereon you could contrive To march; a great convenience to our men, At least to all those who were left alive, Who thus could form a line and fight again: And that which further aided them to strive Was, that they could kick down the palisades, Which scarcely rose much higher than grass blades.7 XLVIII. Among the first,-I will not say the first, Put to such trial John Bull's partial patience, As say that Wellington at Waterloo Of glory, which so pierces through and through one, Pervaded him-although a generous creature, As warm in heart as feminine in feature. LIII. And here he was-who, upon woman's breast LIV. Unless compell'd by fate, or wave, or wind, Flung here by fate or circumstance, which tame The loftiest,-hurried by the time and place,Dash'd on like a spurr'd blood-horse in a race LV. So was his blood stirr'd while he found resistance, Was beaten, though the Prussians say so too;- At times would curdle o'er some heavy groan. |