THEROUANNE. 199 



The self-same hills above us frown, 

 That looked on all his proud array ; 



Yon village, once a peopled town, 



Tells how those scenes have passed away ; 



O'er that sweet plain by cattle trod, 



The imperial navy proudly rode ! 



IV. 



High hopes were his ! Where'er he gazed, 

 A thousand sails were spread on high ; 



Around, ten -thousand watch-fires blazed, 

 Unnumbered standards filled the sky ; 



All owned the world's great master's sway ! 



But where is he ? And where are they ? 



v. 



Ages have winged their solemn flight, 

 And Nature's features widely changed, 



Since the great Roman in his might, 

 Unconquered legions round him ranged: 



Two thousand years have marred the scene, 



But man remains the same, I ween ! 



VI. 



Near this same plain ; a greater far 



Than Rome's high chief held boundless sway ; 

 And sought to pour a mightier war, 



On Britain's isle in recent day. 

 One threatened in her feeble hour ; 

 The other, in her pride and power ! 



VII. 



And just their fates ! The Roman came, 

 T 'exalt and civilise the brave ; 



The Frenchman, in the lust of fame, 

 To conquer, ruin, and enslave: 



One she proclaims her boast, her pride ; 



The other, as her captive, died ! 



