English Poetry II: From Collins to Fitzgerald.
The Harvard Classics. 1909–14.
Robert Southey
422. After Blenheim
I
Old Kaspar’s work was done,
And he before his cottage door
Was sitting in the sun;
And by him sported on the green
His little grandchild Wilhelmine.
Roll something large and round
Which 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.
Who stood expectant by;
And then the old man shook his head,
And with a natural sigh
‘’Tis some poor fellow’s skull,’ said he.
‘Who fell in the great victory.
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 that great victory.’
Young Peterkin he cries;
And little Wilhelmine looks up
With wonder-waiting eyes;
‘Now tell us all about the war,
And what they fought each other for.’
‘Who put the French to rout;
But what they fought each other for
I could not well make out.
But everybody said,’ quoth he,
‘That ’twas a famous victory.
Yon little stream hard by;
They burnt his dwelling to the ground,
And he was forced to fly:
So with his wife and child he fled,
Nor had he where to rest his head.
Was wasted far and wide,
And many a childing mother then
And newborn baby died:
But things like that, you know, must be
At every famous victory.
After the field was won;
For many thousand bodies here
Lay rotting in the sun:
But things like that, you know, must be
After a famous victory.
And our good Prince Eugene;’
‘Why ’twas a very wicked thing!’
Said little Wilhelmine;
‘Nay . . nay . . my little girl,’ quoth he,
‘It was a famous victory.
Who this great fight did win.’
‘But what good came of it at last?’
Quoth little Peterkin:—
‘Why that I cannot tell,’ said he,
‘But ’twas a famous victory.’