Thomas Hardy

The Bridge of Lodi.

I
 
When of tender mind and body
 I was moved by minstrelsy,
And that strain “The Bridge of Lodi”
 Brought a strange delight to me.
 
II
 
In the battle-breathing jingle
 Of its forward-footing tune
I could see the armies mingle,
 And the columns cleft and hewn
 
III
 
On that far-famed spot by Lodi
 Where Napoleon clove his way
To his fame, when like a god he
 Bent the nations to his sway.
 
IV
 
Hence the tune came capering to me
 While I traced the Rhone and Po;
Nor could Milan’s Marvel woo me
 From the spot englamoured so.
 
V
 
And to-day, sunlit and smiling,
 Here I stand upon the scene,
With its saffron walls, dun tiling,
 And its meads of maiden green,
 
VI
 
Even as when the trackway thundered
 With the charge of grenadiers,
And the blood of forty hundred
 Splashed its parapets and piers . . .
 
VII
 
Any ancient crone I’d toady
 Like a lass in young-eyed prime,
Could she tell some tale of Lodi
 At that moving mighty time.
 
VIII
 
So, I ask the wives of Lodi
 For traditions of that day;
But alas! not anybody
 Seems to know of such a fray.
 
IX
 
And they heed but transitory
 Marketings in cheese and meat,
Till I judge that Lodi’s story
 Is extinct in Lodi’s street.
 
X
 
Yet while here and there they thrid them
 In their zest to sell and buy,
Let me sit me down amid them
 And behold those thousands die . . .
 
XI
 
—Not a creature cares in Lodi
 How Napoleon swept each arch,
Or where up and downward trod he,
 Or for his memorial March!
 
XII
 
So that wherefore should I be here,
 Watching Adda lip the lea,
When the whole romance to see here
 Is the dream I bring with me?
 
XIII
 
And why sing “The Bridge of Lodi”
 As I sit thereon and swing,
When none shows by smile or nod he
 Guesses why or what I sing? . . .
 
XIV
 
Since all Lodi, low and head ones,
 Seem to pass that story by,
It may be the Lodi-bred ones
 Rate it truly, and not I.
 
XV
 
Once engrossing Bridge of Lodi,
 Is thy claim to glory gone?
Must I pipe a palinody,
 Or be silent thereupon?
 
XVI
 
And if here, from strand to steeple,
 Be no stone to fame the fight,
Must I say the Lodi people
 Are but viewing crime aright?
 
XVII
 
Nay; I’ll sing “The Bridge of Lodi” -
 That long-loved, romantic thing,
Though none show by smile or nod he
 Guesses why and what I sing!
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