The Field of Waterloo, IV

Now, see’st thou aught in this lone scene Can tell of that which late hath been?— A stranger might reply, “The bare extent of stubble-plain Seems lately lightened of its grain; And yonder sable tracks remain Marks of the peasant’s ponderous wain, When harvest-home was nigh. On these broad spots of trampled ground, Perchance the rustics danced such round As Teniers loved to draw; And where the earth seems scorched by flame, To dress the homely feast they came, And toiled the kerchiefed village dame Around her fire of straw.”