 | The battle of Niagara |  |
No other voice could stay his course:
Her's was the only earthly force
To which he yielded, when he went
In worship towards the firmament.
She saw beneath that cloudy air
The heart of flame imprisoned there:
For every glance that left his eye,
When pealed his bursting minstrelsy;
And every shout he sent away,
When woke his stormy battle-lay;
And every sweeping of his hand,
Showed one accustomed to command:
And then—the sounds he always chose,
In tempest or in tears, were those
That only generous hearts can feel
And only generous hearts conceive:
For they were still the challenge-peal—
The charge that makes the young heart reel,
Or lordly spirits stoop, and grieve.
Her's was the only earthly force
To which he yielded, when he went
In worship towards the firmament.
She saw beneath that cloudy air
The heart of flame imprisoned there:
For every glance that left his eye,
When pealed his bursting minstrelsy;
And every shout he sent away,
When woke his stormy battle-lay;
And every sweeping of his hand,
Showed one accustomed to command:
And then—the sounds he always chose,
In tempest or in tears, were those
That only generous hearts can feel
And only generous hearts conceive:
For they were still the challenge-peal—
The charge that makes the young heart reel,
Or lordly spirits stoop, and grieve.
| The battle of Niagara | |