 | The collected poems of William Ellery Channing the younger, 1817-1901 |  |
895
THE RETREATING ARMY.
By William Ellery Channing.
The pipes no longer sound in gladness,
Nor glisten arms beneath the sun;
They fold their hands in utter sadness,
The eager day is sadly done.
Nor glisten arms beneath the sun;
They fold their hands in utter sadness,
The eager day is sadly done.
Over the tottering bridge are going—
That wavers in the misty wind—
Some fugitives, few looks bestowing
Upon the stainéd field behind.
That wavers in the misty wind—
Some fugitives, few looks bestowing
Upon the stainéd field behind.
The bridge is high upon the mountain,
It was a long ascent to climb;
Beneath, leaps through a mirthful fountain,
Below, the landscape lies sublime:
It was a long ascent to climb;
Beneath, leaps through a mirthful fountain,
Below, the landscape lies sublime:
Green fields that yield to toil's devotion
The heaped-up granary's golden load,
Encircled by the azure ocean—
The lovely land of man's abode.
The heaped-up granary's golden load,
Encircled by the azure ocean—
The lovely land of man's abode.
Above them, where their steps retreating
Seek shelter with the mountain chain,
The misty wind their entrance greeting,
Enfolds them in a dizzy rain.
Seek shelter with the mountain chain,
The misty wind their entrance greeting,
Enfolds them in a dizzy rain.
'Yond the gray rocks the sun is streaming,
On boldly through the threatening storm:
The peaceful clouds float softly dreaming,
The vale is beautiful and warm.
On boldly through the threatening storm:
The peaceful clouds float softly dreaming,
The vale is beautiful and warm.
| The collected poems of William Ellery Channing the younger, 1817-1901 | |