Xi monologue — Ismael; an oriental tale. With other poems

Yet though his words can animate the heart, And lively courage to each breast impart, 230 Still anxious doubt, though kept in wise control, Chill’d his own cheek, and dampt his mighty soul. If Blücher come not in _one_ passing hour, Full well he knew how weak was all his pow’r. With eagle-eye the squadrons he survey’d, And, where they fainted, sent the timely aid;-- His person, counsel, and his chiefest care, Where most the dreadful dangers of the war, And where, disdaining self, his form he threw, To guard that form, invincible they grew. 240 Though less thy skill, not less thy daring might, Uxbridge! thou pride, thou bulwark of the fight! Shew me, ye Muses of Parnassian shades, A chief more glorious for the horse brigades-- A chief more skill’d to please th’ unconstant fair, Or shine the first, and foremost of the war. But by thy fire of valour led away, A shot, at close of that tremendous day, Mangled thy form, and drove thee from the fray.