SEBASTOPOL IS WON.
Reading edition
1855.
SET TO MUSIC AND PUBLISHED.
Dance on! ye vaulting joy-bells, shout In spirit-gladdening notes, Whilst mimic thunders bellow out From cannons' brazen throats: "Tyrant! awake ye, tremblingly; The advent has begun: Hark! to the mighty jubilant cry— "Sebastopol is won!" Ring out, rejoice, and clap your hands, Shout, patriots, everyone! A burst of joy let rend the sky: Sebastopol is won!
No dream of brilliant conquest 'twas, Nor selfish hope of gain, That sent the blood mad-rushing through And through each Briton's vein; No! such was not the spell that nerved Old England for the fight, Her war cry with her brother braves' Was "Freedom, God, and Right!" Ring out, rejoice, and clap your hands, Shout, patriots, everyone! A burst of joy let rend the sky: Sebastopol is won!
Shame! shame! upon the craven souls Of those who trembling stood, And would not—dare not—lend a hand To stay this feast of blood! Whose cringing spirits lowly bowed Before the despot-glance Of him whose star now pales before Brave England! Mighty France! Ring out, rejoice, and clap your hands, Shout, patriots, everyone! A burst of joy let rend the sky; Sebastopol is won!
Tho' hoary grows the mother-land Her enemies may learn That 'neath her smile so queenly-grand There lives a purpose stern! Then Britons chant exulting paeans, Long pent-up joy release; From yonder flaming pile upsoars The Morning Sun of Peace! (a) Ring out, rejoice, and clap your hands, Shout, patriots, everyone! A burst of joy let rend the sky: Sebastopol is won!
(a) I am sorry to find that the aspiration here embodied has been falsified. War is now raging (1877), and from precisely the same causes as those which led to the Crimean war, nearly a quarter of a century ago.