 | A book of Bristol sonnets |  |
48
BRISTOL SMOKE IN EARLY MORNING.
OCTOBER.
Like breathing hosts upon a frosty mornBeneath my feet the slumbering City lay;
In thought, I heard the herald trumpet say,
“Rest, for our armies both are battle-worn!
“Let not the ensigns black with smoke be borne
“But rolled about their standards let them stay!”
And like a nation's sigh, from far away,
The truce was welcomed, and the treaty sworn.
Thrice treacherous peace that could no longer last!
Forth o'er their ranks the smoky banners flew;
Men's voices clamoured, furious and fast.
Still standards waved, and still the loud horns blew!
And to the conflict, and the battle smoke
Of one more day old Bristol's City woke.
| A book of Bristol sonnets | |