The southern press. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1850-1852, 1850-12-09

il is possible for modern poet to approach 1t is
the Battle Of Naseby, and as we have not seen it
in any of his printed works, we do not think our
readers who are lovers Of true, living poetry, will
regre, that we have given il place III our columns.
Let it be read aloud by one who can feel the poetic
inspiration to another Of the same spirit, and the
reader and the nearer will then appreciate the good
old saying Of Sir Philip Sydney, "Let me make
their laws"
Tho Battle OF Naseby.
NY oBApIAH BIND THEIR KING AIMS AND-rHEIR
NEUTRALITY-SUSPICIOUS. IN IRE
TONS REGIMENT.
"oh wherefore come we forth in triumph from the
North,
With your hands and your feet and your rain
ment all red?
And wherefore doth your rout send forth joyous
shout
And whence be the grapes Of the wine press tina
we tread"
30 evil was the root and bitter was the fruit,
And crimson the juice Of the vintage that
We trod
For trampled on the throng Of the naughty and
the strong
That sat in the high places and slew the saints of
God.
1t was about the noon ola glorious day in June,
That We their banners dance and their cui-
rasses shine,
And the man Of blood was there with his long es-
And Ashley an" and Sir Mamaduke and Rupert of
the Rhine.
Like servant ofthe Lord, with his Bible and his
sword
The general rode along us to form us for the
fight,
When murmuring sound broke out and swelled
into shout
Among the goddess horsemen upon the tyrant )
right.
And bark like the roar ofthe pillows the shore
The cry Of battle rises along their charging line;
"For God, for the cause, for the church, for the
laws,
For Charles King OF England, and Ruper, Of the
The furious German comes with his cerons and
his drums,
His bravoes of Alsatia and pages of Whitehall
They arc bursting on our hanks-grasp your
pixies, close your ranks,
For Rupert never comes but to conquer or to
fall
They are here, they rush on--we are broken, we
are gone.
Our leh is borne before them like stubbe on the
b.ast
o Lord, put forth thy mgh,--o Lord defend the
right.
Stand back to back in Gods name and fight il,
to the last
Stout Skppon hath a wound, our centre hath Civ
en- ground.
Hark bark what means that trampling of
horses our rear:
Whose banner do see boys? IT'S he thank God
tits he, boys!
Bear up another minute, brave Oliver is here
Their heads all STOPPING low, their points all in
Like whirlwind on the trees, like deIuge on
the dikes,
Our cursssers have burst on the ranks of the &C
And at shock have scattered the forest of his
pixies
Fast, fast the gallants ride, in some safe nook ,c
Their coward heads, predestned to rot on Tenn
pie bar.
And he, he fears, he flies; shame to those cruel eye
That bore to look torture, but dare not lool
IIo, comrades, scour the pain but ere you stri
the slain,
First give another stab to make your quest Sc
Then shake from sleeves and pockets their broac
pieces and ockes,
The tokens Of the wanton. the plumber Of the
poor.
Fools, your doublets shone with gold, and your
words were gay and bold,
When we kissed your lily hands to your lemans
to-day,
And tomorrow shall the fox from her chambers in
the rocks
Lead forth her ,awny cubs that howl above the
prey.
Where be your tongues that late Knocked at heaven
and he'll and fate,
And your fingers that once were SO busy with
your blades.
Your perfumed satin clothes, your catches and
your oaths,
Your stage plays and your sonne,s, your da-
monds and your spades.
Down. down, forever down, with the mtre and the
crown,
With the Belial Of the Court and the Mammon
Of the Pope!
There is woe in Oxford halls, there is wall in Dur
ham stalls,
The Jesuit smes his bosom, the Bishop rends
his cope.
Aud she Of the seven hills shall lament her chill
dren's ills,
And tremble when she thinks on the might of
Engiand's sword
And the kings Of earth in fear shall shudder when
they hear
Wha, the hand Of God hath wrought for the
houses and the Word