The Battle of Blenheim






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A Portrait
The Book-Hunter
Baudelaire to His Love
I Am the Song of Love
The Fool's Prayer
Full of murmurs
A Poem
Kan-il-Lak the Singer
The Chariot Race
Long Life Not to be Desired
Praise of Colonus
Prayer
The Battle of Blenheim
At the Carnival
Before the Feast of Shushan
A Ditty
The Apothecary's
Moonlight in the Pines




was a summer evening,
Old Kaspar's work was done, BoyShoes
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And he before his cottage door
Was sitting in the sun, And by him sported on the green
His little grandchild Wilhelmine.
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She saw her brother Peterkin
Roll something large and round
Which he beside the rivulet In playing there had found;
He came to ask what he had found,
That was so large, and smooth, and round. Heely Shoes
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Old Kaspar took it from the boy,
Who stood expectant by;
And then the old man shook his head, And with a natural sigh,
"'Tis some poor fellow's skull," said he,
"Who fell in the great victory. Rocket Dog Shoes
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"I find them in the garden,
For there's many here about;
And often when I go to plough, The ploughshare turns them out!
For many thousand men," said he,
"Were slain in that great victory." RunningShoes
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"Now tell us what 'twas all about,"
Young Peterkin, he cries;
And little Wilhelmine looks up With wonder-waiting eyes;
"Now tell us all about the war,
And what they fought each other for." Lakai Shoes
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"It was the English," Kaspar cried, "Who put the French to rout;
But what they fought each other for
I could not well make out; But everybody said," quoth he,
"That 'twas a famous victory.
"My father lived at Blenheim then, Yon little stream hard by;
They burnt his dwelling to the ground,
And he was forced to fly; So with his wife and child he fled,
Nor had he where to rest his head.
"With fire and sword the country round
Was wasted far and wide,
And many a childing mother then, And new-born baby died;

But things like that, you know, must be
At every famous victory. "They said it was a shocking sight After the field was won;
For many thousand bodies here Lay rotting in the sun;
But things like that, you know, must be
After a famous victory.
"Great praise the Duke of Marlbro' won,
And our good Prince Eugene."
"Why, 'twas a very wicked thing!" Said little Wilhelmine.
"Nay ... nay ... my little girl," quoth he,
"It was a famous victory." "And everybody praised the Duke
Who this great fight did win."
"But what good came of it at last?" Quoth little Peterkin.
"Why, that I cannot tell," said he, "But 'twas a famous victory."