Page:Poets of John Company.djvu/39

Rh

Rouse! rouse the cruel leopard from his lair.
 * With his yell the mountain rings,
 * And his red eye round he flings,
 * As arrow-like he springs,

And spreads his clutching paw to rend and tear.

Then first array'd in battle-front we saw,
 * Far as the eye could glance.
 * The Mahratta banners dance
 * O'er the desolate expanse;

And their standard was the leopard of Malwa.

But, when we first encounter'd man to man,
 * Such odds came never on.
 * Against Greece or Macedon,
 * When they shook the Persian throne

Mid the old barbaric pomp of Ispahan.

No number'd might of living men could tame
 * Our gallant band, that broke
 * Through the bursting clouds of smoke,
 * When the vollied thunder spoke

From a thousand smouldering mouths of lurid flame.

Hail Wellesley! who led'st the martial fray!
 * Amid the locust swarm,
 * Dark fate was in thine arm;
 * And his shadow shall alarm

The Mahratta when he hears thy name for aye.

Ah! mark these British corses on the plain!
 * Each vanish'd like a star
 * Mid the dreadful ranks of war.
 * While their foemen stood afar.

And gaz'd with silent terror at the slain.

Shout Britons, for the battle of Assaye!
 * Ye who perish'd in your prime,
 * Your hallow'd names sublime
 * Shall live to endless time.

For heroic worth and fame shall never die.