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Article THE CHELSEA PENSIONER. Page 1 of 2 →
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
The Chelsea Pensioner.
THE CHELSEA PENSIONER .
33 Y SIR . JOHN HENRY MOORS ' , BAST .
JUDENEATH that mouldering turret ' s gloomy shade-, Where yonder pines their wide-spread -branches wasrt-j A gallant Veteran rests bis weary head ,. And with him sleep his sorrows in the grave . So breathing art adorns the sacred ground .
Points the tall spire , or bids the trophy rise , A scanty turf with twisted osier bound Scarce marks the spot where buried honour lies . All , what avails him , that in youth's gay prime Each unremitting toil- of war he . bore , Each sickly change of every varying
clime-From Europe ' s strand to Asia ' s sultry shore ? Ho . w short the glory of the poor man ' s deeds ? How slight the fame he fondly- ihinks his own 1 la vain he triumphs , or in vain lie bleeds , Alike unwept , unpitied , and unknown . Yet though no lumed steedsno sable car
p , , Call forth the hireling ' s ¦ mercenary tears , No blazon'd banners streaming from afar Flaunt their vain honors o ' er thine humble bier ; Yet on the margin of the path-worn green , Near the lov'd spot where thy cold relics r . est ^ Fair virtue ' s angel-form shall oft be seen
To bid the turf He lightly on thy breast . The thoughtless many , the misjud g ing croud , Whose glance scarce beams beyo-nd the preseat lw \ jr > May idolize the follies of the proud , Or bend submissive at the shrine of pow ' r ;
But with the chosen band , the manly few , Whose sober approbation far outweighs , In reason's scale , the clamorous fickle crew , And the vain tumult of their fleeting praise—— ( Scorning the pageantry of pomp , and place ) Their hearts shall pay the tributary sigh To that poor virtue , from whose humble base Tow ' r'd the proud columns that ins . ult the skj
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
The Chelsea Pensioner.
THE CHELSEA PENSIONER .
33 Y SIR . JOHN HENRY MOORS ' , BAST .
JUDENEATH that mouldering turret ' s gloomy shade-, Where yonder pines their wide-spread -branches wasrt-j A gallant Veteran rests bis weary head ,. And with him sleep his sorrows in the grave . So breathing art adorns the sacred ground .
Points the tall spire , or bids the trophy rise , A scanty turf with twisted osier bound Scarce marks the spot where buried honour lies . All , what avails him , that in youth's gay prime Each unremitting toil- of war he . bore , Each sickly change of every varying
clime-From Europe ' s strand to Asia ' s sultry shore ? Ho . w short the glory of the poor man ' s deeds ? How slight the fame he fondly- ihinks his own 1 la vain he triumphs , or in vain lie bleeds , Alike unwept , unpitied , and unknown . Yet though no lumed steedsno sable car
p , , Call forth the hireling ' s ¦ mercenary tears , No blazon'd banners streaming from afar Flaunt their vain honors o ' er thine humble bier ; Yet on the margin of the path-worn green , Near the lov'd spot where thy cold relics r . est ^ Fair virtue ' s angel-form shall oft be seen
To bid the turf He lightly on thy breast . The thoughtless many , the misjud g ing croud , Whose glance scarce beams beyo-nd the preseat lw \ jr > May idolize the follies of the proud , Or bend submissive at the shrine of pow ' r ;
But with the chosen band , the manly few , Whose sober approbation far outweighs , In reason's scale , the clamorous fickle crew , And the vain tumult of their fleeting praise—— ( Scorning the pageantry of pomp , and place ) Their hearts shall pay the tributary sigh To that poor virtue , from whose humble base Tow ' r'd the proud columns that ins . ult the skj