Classic Poem

Upon the bombardment of the town of Granville in Normandy by the English slect.

Tho' built by gods, consum'd by hostile flame
Troy bury'd lies, yet lives the Trojan name;
And so shall thine, tho' with these walls were lost
All the records our ancestors could boast.
For Latium conquer'd, and for Turnus slain,
Æneas lives, tho' not one stone remain
Where he arose. Nor art thou less renown'd
For thy loud triumphs on Hungarian ground.
Those arms which, for nine centuries, had brav'd
The wrath of Time, on antique stone engrav'd,
Now torn by mortars, stand yet undefac'd
On nobler trophies, by thy valour rais'd:
Safe on thy Eagle's wings, they soar above
The rage of war or thunder to remove,
Borne by the bird of Caesar and of Jove.