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Close his eyes; his work is done!
What to him is friend or formand,
I of man an kiss of winan?
low, lay him how,
In the clover on the snow!
POEMS OF PEACE AND WAR.
WAR FOR THE SAKE OF PEACE. In darkness, and pure and spangling snow
Gleams faiņtly through the gloom that gathers
round!" O FIRST of human blessings, and supreme !
Hark to that roary whoge swift, and deafening Fair Peace! how lovely, how delightful thou !
peals By whose wide tie the kindred sons of men
In countless echoes tlirough the mountains ring, Like brothers live, in amity combined
Startling pale midnight on her starry throne ! And unsuspicious faith ; while honest toil
Now swells the intermingling 'din' ; the'jar '.' Gives every joy, and to those joys a right
Frequent and frightful of the bursting bomb; Which idle, barbarous rapine but usurps.
The falling beam, the shriek, the 'gidan, the Pure is thy reign.
The ceaseless clangor, and the rush of men...' What would not, Peace! the patriot bear for
Inebriate with rage ;- loud, and more loud . thee?
The discord grows; till pale wheath shirts the What painful patience? What incessant care ?
scene, . . . . What mixed anxiety? What sleepless toil ?
And o'er the conqueror and the conquered draws E'en from the rash protected, what reproach ? :
His cold and bloody shroud. – Of all the men For he thy value knows; thy friendship he
Whom day's departing beam saw blooming there, To human nature : but the better thou,
In proud and vigorous health ; of all the hearts The richer of delight, sometimes the more
That beat with anxious life at siyset there, Inevitable war, — when ruffian force
How few survive, how few are beating now! Awakes the fury of an injured state.
All is deep silence, like the fearful calm E eu the good patient man whom reason rules,
That slumbers in the storni's portentous panise : Roused by bold insult and injurious rage,
Save when the frantic wail of widowed love With sharp and sudden check the astonished sons
Comes shuddering on the blast, or the faint modul Of violence confounds ; firm as his cause
With which some soul bursts from the frame of His bolder heart; in awful justice clad ;
clay His eyes effulging a peculiar fire :
Wrapt round its struggling powers.
The gray morn To dare the sacred vengeance of the just. Dawns on the mournful scene; the sulpluirous
smoke Then ardent rise! O, great in vengeance rise! | Before the icy wind slow rolls away, O'erturn the proud, teach rapine to restore ; And the bright beams of frosty morning dance And, as you ride sublimely round the world,
| Along the spangling snow. There tracks of blood Make 'every vessel stoop, make every 'state
Even to the forest's depth, and scattered arms, At once their welfare and their duty know. And lifeless warriors, whose hard lineaments
Death's self could change not, mark the Jreadful
Of the outsallying victors ; far behind, . ,, , .WAR.,
Black ashes note where their prond. city'stood., Ah! 'whence yon glare, Within yon forest is a gloomy 'gle), — That fires the arch of heaven ? - that dark-red Each tree which guards its darkness from the smoke
day.. . Siri Blotting the silver moon? The stars are quenched / Waves o'er a warrior's tomb: .
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY.
War is the statesman's game, the priest's delight, And inextinguishable rage. All heaven
Deeds of eternal fame Guards, garbed in blood-red livery, surround Were done, but infinite : for wide was spread Their palaces, participate the crimes
That war, and various: sometiines on firm ground
Forthwith (behold the excellence, the power
(For earth bath this variety from heaven,
Light as the lightning glimpse they ran, they FROM “PARADISE LOST," BOOK VI.
few, THE ARRAY.
From their foundations loosening to and fro,
They plucked the seated hills, with all their load, Now went forth the morn, I Such as in highest heaven, arrayed in gold
Rocks, waters, woods, and by the shaggy tops
Uplifting bore them in their hands : amaze, Empyreal ; from before her vanished night,
Be sure, and terror, seized the rebel host, Shot through with orient beans; when all the
When coming towards them so dread they saw plain
The bottom of the mountains upward turned, Covered with thick em battled squadrons bright,
. . . . and on their heads Chariots, and flaming arms, and fiery steeds,
Main promontories flung, which in the air Reflecting blaze on blaze, first met his view'.
Came shadowing, and oppressed whole legions
armed ; The apostate in his sun-bright chariot sat,
Their armor helped their harm, crushed in and Idol of majesty divine, enclosed
bruised With faming cherubim, and golden shields; Into their substance pent, which wrought them Then lighted from his gorgeous throne, for now I pain 'Twixt host and host but narrow space was left,
Implacable, and many a dolorous groan ; A dreadful interval, anul front to front
Long struggling underneath, ere they could wind Presented stood in terrible array
Out of such prison, though spirits of purest light, Of hideous length : before the cloudy van,
Purest at first, now gross by simning grown. On the rough edge of battle ere it joined,
The rest, in imitation, to like arms Satan, with vast and haughty strides advanced, Betook them, and the neighboring hills uptore : Came towering, armed in adamant and gold.
So hills amid the air encountered hills,
Hurled to and fro with jaculation dire,
That underground they fought in dismal shade;
Infernal noise! war seemed a civil game The archangel trumpet; through the vast of To this uproar ; horrid confusion heaped heaven
Upon confusion rose.
At once the four spread out their starry wings Of brazen chariots raged ; dire was the noise | With drealful shade contiguous, and the orbs Of conflict ; overhead the dismal hiss
| Of his fierce chariot rolled, as with the sound Of fiery darts in flaning volleys flew,
Of torrent floods, or of a numerous host. And flying vaulted either host with fire.
He on his ini pious foes right onward drove, So under fiery cope together rushed
Gloomy as night : under lois burning wheel: Both battles main, with ruinous assault | The steadfast empyrean shook throughout.
All but the throne itself of God. Full soon For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the Among them he arrived ; in his right hand
blast, Grasping ten thousand thunders, which he sent And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed; Before him, such as in their souls infixed And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and Plagues : they, astonished, all resistance lost
chill, All courage ; down their idle weapons dropt; And their hearts but once heaved, and forever O'er shields, and helms, and helmed heads he grew still !
rode of thrones and mighty seraphim prostráte,
And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide, That wished the mountains now might be again But through it there rolled not the breath of his Thrown on them, as a shelter from his ire.
pride : Nor less on either side tempestuous fell
And the foam of his gasping lay white on the His arrows, from the fourfold-visaged Four
turf, Distinct with eyes, and from the living wheels | And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf. Distinct alike with multitude of eyes ; One spirit in them ruled ; and every eye
And there lay the rider distorted and pale, Glared lightning, and shot forth pernicious fire
With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his Among the accursed, that withered all their
And the tents were all silent, the banners alone, strength, And of their wonted vigor left them drained,
The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown. Exhausted, spiritless, afflicted, fallen.
And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail, Yet half his strength he put not forth, but
And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal ; checked
And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the His thunder in mid volley ; for he meant
sword, Not to destroy, but root them out of heaven :
Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord! The overthrown he raised, and as a herd
LORD BYRON. Of goats or timorous flock together thronged, Drove them before him thunderstruck, pursued With terrors and with furies, to the bounds
CATILINE TO THE ROMAN ARMY. And crystal wall of heaven; which, opening wide, Rolled inward, and a spacious gap disclosed
FROM "CATILINE," ACT V. SC. 2. Into the wasteful deep: the monstrous sight Sound all to arins! (A flourish of trumpets.) Struck them with horror backward, but far worse Call in the captains, - (To an officer.) Urged them behind : headlong themselves they
I would speak with them! threw
(The officer goes.) Down from the verge of heaven ; eternal wrath
Now, Hope! away, - and welcome gallant Burnt after them to the bottomless pit.
That makes wounds light, and battle's crimson
toil The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the
Seem but a sport, - and welcome the colil bed, fold,
Where soldiers with their upturned faces lie, And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and
" | And welcome wolf's and vulture's hungry throats, gold; And the sheen of their spears was like stars on
That make their sepulchres ! We fight to-night. the sea,
(The soldiery enter.) When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Centurions! all is ruined ! I disdain Galilee.
To hide the truth from you. The die is thrown !
And now, let each that wishes for long life Like the leaves of the forest when summer is Put up his sword, and kneel for peace to Rome. green,
Ye all are free to go. What ! no man stirs ! That host with their banners at sunset were seen: Not one! a soldier's spirit in you all ? Like the leaves of the forest when autumn hath Give me your hands! (This moisture in my eyes blown,
Is womanish, -- 't will pass.) My noble hearts ! That host on the morrow lay withered and well have you chosen to die! For, in my mind, strown.
| The grave is better than o'erburdened life ;
And for myself, quoth he,
Nor more osteom me,
Loss to redeem me.
Better the quiok velease of glorious wounds,
7 The soldiers shoul, “ All! All !") Then, each man to his tent, and take the arms That he would love to die in, - for, this hour, We storm the Consul's camp. A last farewell !
(He takes their hands.) When next we meet, - we'll have no time to look, How parting clouds a soldier's countenance. Few as we are, we'll rouse them with a peal That shall shake Rome! Now to your cohorts' heads; - the word 's —
Poitiers and Cressy tell,
No less our skill is
Lopped the French lilies.
The Duke of York so dread
Amongst his henchmen,
On the false Frenchmen !
THE BALĻAD. OF AGINCOURT.
Longer will ťarry ;
Landed King Harry,
They now to fight are gone ;
To hear was wonder ;
Thunder to thunder.
Well it thine age became,
• To our hid forces;
Struck the French horses
And taking many a fort,
In happy hour, -
With all his power, ..
To the king sending;
Their fall portending,
Be not amazed ; :::: Yet have we well begun, Battles so bravely won' Have ever to the sun
By fame been raised...ii.
With Spanish yew so strong, Arrows a cloth-yard long, That like to serpents stung, · Piercing the weather ; None from his fellow starts, But playing manly parts, And, like true English hearts,
Stuck close together.
When down their bows they threw,
Not one was tardy ;