Thomas Humphry Ward, ed. The English Poets. 1880–1918.rnVol. IV. The Nineteenth Century: Wordsworth to Rossetti
Felicia Dorothea Hemans (17931835)Casabianca
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Whence all but he had fled;
The flame that lit the battle’s wreck,
Shone round him o’er the dead;
Yet beautiful and bright he stood
As born to rule the storm!
A creature of heroic blood,
A proud, though child-like form!
Without his Father’s word;
That Father, faint in death below,
His voice no longer heard.
He call’d aloud: ‘Say, father, say
If yet my task is done!’
He knew not that the chieftain lay
Unconscious of his son.
‘If I may yet be gone!’
And but the booming shots replied,
And fast the flames roll’d on.
Upon his brow he felt their breath,
And in his waving hair;
And look’d from that lone post of death
In still, yet brave, despair;
‘My father! must I stay?’
While o’er him fast through sail and shroud,
The wreathing fires made way.
They wrapt the ship in splendour wild,
They caught the flag on high,
And stream’d above the gallant child
Like banners in the sky.
The boy—O! where was he?—
—Ask of the winds that far around
With fragments strewed the sea,
With mast, and helm, and pennon fair,
That well had borne their part;
But the noblest thing which perish’d there
Was that young faithful heart!