Produced by Brian Coe, Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive) THE BATTLE OF TALAVERA. TENTH EDITION. ’...... _Sibi cognomen in hoste ‘Fecit; et Hispanam sanguine tinxit humum._’ OV. FAST. 6. London: PRINTED FOR JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE-STREET. 1816. THE BATTLE OF TALAVERA. _Dicam insigne, recens, adhuc_ _Indictum ore alio._ I. ’Twas dark; from every mountain head The sunny smile of heaven had fled, And evening, over hill and dale Dropt, with the dew, her shadowy veil; In fabled Teio’s darkening tide Was quenched the golden ray; Silent, the silent stream beside, Three gallant people’s hope and pride, Three gallant armies lay. France, every nation’s foe, is there, And Albion’s sons her red cross bear, With Spain’s young Liberty to share The patriot array, Which, spurning the oppressor’s chain, Springs arm’d, from every hill and plain From ocean to the eastern main-- From Seville to Biscaye. All, from the dawn till even-tide, The fortune of the field had tried In loose but bloody fray; And now with thoughts of dubious fate Feverish and weary, they await A fiercer, bloodier day. II. Fraternal France’s chosen bands He of the stolen crown commands, And on Alberche’s hither sands Pitches his tents to-night: While, Talavera’s wall between And olive groves and gardens green, Spain quarters on the right; All scatter’d in the open air In deep repose; save here and there, Pondering to-morrow’s fight, A spearman, in his midnight prayer, Invokes our Blessed Lady’s care And good Saint James’s might. Thence to the left, across the plain And on the neighbouring height, The British bands, a watchful train, Their wide and warded line maintain, Fronting the east, as if to gain The earliest glimpse of light. III.