The freshening breeze of eve unfurled | |
That banner’s massy fold,— | |
The parting gleam of sunshine kissed | |
That haughty scroll of gold; | |
Night sank upon the dusky beach, | |
And on the purple sea,— | |
Such night in England ne’er had been, | |
Nor e’er again shall be. | |
From Eddystone to Berwick bounds, | |
From Lynn to Milford Bay, | |
That time of slumber was as bright | |
And busy as the day; | |
For swift to east and swift to west | |
The warning radiance spread; | |
High on St. Michael’s Mount it shone, | |
It shone on Beachy Head. | |
Far on the deep the Spaniard saw, | |
Along each southern shire, | |
Cape beyond cape, in endless range, | |
Those twinkling points of fire; | |
The fisher left his skiff to rock | |
On Tamar’s glittering waves, | |
The rugged miners poured to war | |
From Mendip’s sunless caves. | |
O’er Longleat’s towers, o’er Cranbourne’s oaks, | |
The fiery herald flew; | |
He roused the shepherds of Stonehenge, | |
The rangers of Beaulieu. | |
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Right sharp and quick the bells all night | |
Rang out from Bristol town, | |
And ere the day three hundred horse | |
Had met on Clifton down; | |
The sentinel on Whitehall Gate | |
Looked forth into the night, | |
And saw o’erhanging Richmond Hill | |
The streak of blood-red light. | |
Then bugle’s note and cannon’s roar | |
The death-like silence broke, | |
And with one start and with one cry | |
The royal city woke. | |
At once on all her stately gates | |
Arose the answering fires; | |
At once the wild alarum clashed | |
From all her reeling spires; | |
From all the batteries of the Tower | |
Pealed loud the voice of fear; | |
And all the thousand masts of Thames | |
Sent back a louder cheer; | |
And from the farthest wards was heard | |
The rush of hurrying feet, | |
And the broad streams of flags and pikes | |
Dashed down each roaring street; | |
And broader still became the blaze, | |
And louder still the din, | |
As fast from every village round | |
The horse came spurring in; | |
And eastward straight, from wild Blackheath, | |
The warlike errand went, | |
And roused in many an ancient hall, | |
The gallant squires of Kent. | |
South ward from Surrey’s pleasant hills | |
Flew those bright couriers forth; | |
High on bleak Hempstead’s swarthy moor | |
They started for the north; | |
And on and on, without a pause, | |
Untired they bounded still; | |
All night from tower to tower they sprang,— | |
They sprang from hill to hill, | |
Till the proud Peak unfurled the flag | |
O’er Darwin’s rocky dales,— | |
Till like volcanoes flared to heaven | |
The stormy hills of Wales,— | |
Till twelve fair counties saw the blaze | |
On Malvern’s lonely height, | |
Till streamed in crimson on the wind | |
The Wrekin’s crest of light,— | |
Till broad and fierce the star came forth | |
On Ely’s stately fane, | |
And tower and hamlet rose in arms | |
O’er all the boundless plain,— | |
Till Belvoir’s lordly terraces | |
The sign to Lincoln sent, | |
And Lincoln sped the message on | |
O’er the wide vale of Trent,— | |
Till Skiddaw saw the fire that burned | |
On Gaunt’s embattled pile, | |
And the red glare on Skiddaw roused | |
The burghers of Carlisle! | |
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