'I see a people scattered like a flock,
Some royal mastiff panting at their heels
With all the savage thirst a tiger feels.'-
Cowper.

O'er the broad Baltic sad I gaze,
While pity deep and stern amaze-
Sorrow, sympathy, and shame
By turns my deepest feelings claim.
Pity for a land down-trodden,
With her children's life-blood sodden,
Offered on the Moloch shrine
Of War. The human form divine,
Beneath the frowning face of Heaven,
Like forest leaves by tempest driven,
Soiled with dust and drenched with gore,
Lies thickly strewn on Denmark's shore.
Amazed I stand; no weakling's tears,
No timid, shrinking, woman's fears
Unnerve my heart. Oh, could I wield
A Titan's power! that slaughter-field,
That Aceldama of the Dane,
No Teuton's foot would tread again.
On Sonderborg's felonious fires,
Her murdered mothers, babes, and sires,
I gaze, till sorrow floods my eyes.
Your patriotic sacrifice,
Ye gallant Danes, is made in vain;
Unaided, ye may not sustain
The avalanche that thunders down
On 'leagured fort and 'fenceless town.
The voice of Europe thunders shame
On Brandenburg and Hapsburg's name;
Who, spite of diplomatic notes,
Kept burning towns and cutting throats.
Their eagles now but vultures seem,
That o'er the carnage swoop and scream;
And, hark! their thanks to God they chant,
For victory, in blasphemous cant!
O Alexandra! one short year
Has pass'd since we, with shout and cheer,
With waving flags, with joy and pride,
Our future Queen, our Prince's bride,
Gave loyal welcome. Couldst thou think
Thy sire and country on the brink
Of ruin-Britain standing by,
With cold regard and careless eye?
May she atone for past neglect!
May she, in council, have respect
To faith and freedom, truth and right,
And ever combat lawless might!