SOLILOQUY AND PRAYER OF EDWARD THE BLACK PRINCE, BEFORE THE BATTLE OF POICTIERS.
The hour advances, the decisive hour,
That lifts me to the summit of renown,
Or leaves me on the earth a breathless corse,
The buzz and bustle of the field before me;
The twang of bow-strings, and the clash of spears:
With every circumstance of preparation;
Strike with an awful horror!—Shouts are echo'd,
To drown dismay, and blow up resolution
Even to its utmost swell.—From hearts so firm,
Whom dangers fortify, and toils inspire,
What has a leader not to hope! And, yet,
The weight of apprehension sinks me down—
"O, soul of Nature! great eternal cause,
"Who gave, and govern's all that's here below!
"'Tis by the aid of thy almighty arm
"The weak exist, the virtuous are secure.
"If, to your sacred laws obedient ever
"My sword, my soul, have own'd no other guide,
"Oh! if your honour, if the rights of men,
"My country's happiness, my king's renown,
"Were motives worthy of a warrior's zeal,
"Crown your poor servant with success this day:
"And be the praise and glory all thy own."