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Believe me, while in bed you lay,
You made us all devouter :
and seem'd to say, “ How can we do without her?"
Besides (which vex'd us worse) we knew
In the place where you were going..
The BATTLE of BLENHEIM.
By ROBERT SOUTHEY.
It was a summer evening,
Old Kaspar's work was done ;
Was sitting in the sun,
She saw her brother Peterkin
Roll something large and round, That he beside the rivulet
In playing there had found ; He came to ask what he had found, That was so large, and smooth, and round.
Old Kaspar took it from the boy
Who stood expectant by ; And then the old man shook his head,
And with a natural sigh, 'Tis some poor fellow's scull, said he, Who fell in the great victory.
I find them in the garden, for
There's many here about, And often when I go to plough,
The ploughshare turns them out ; For many thousand
men, said he, Were slain in the great victory.
Now tell us what 'twas all about,
Young Peterkin he cries, And little Wilhelmine looks up
With wonder-waiting eyes ; Now tell us all about the war, And what they kill'd each other for.
It was the English, Kaspar cried,
That put the French to rout;
I could not well make out.
My father lived at Blenheim then,
Yon little stream hard by,
And he was forced to fly;
With fire and sword the country round
Was wasted far and wide,
And new-born infant died.
They say it was a shocking sight
After the field was won,
Lay rotting in the sun ;
Great praise the Duke of Marlbro' won,
And our good Prince Eugene-
Said little Wilhelmine.
And every body praised the Duke
Who such a fight did win.
Quoth little Peterkin.