Peace and war An Ode. By William Allingham. Reprinted, by permission, from the "Daily News." |
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I.
The year's great tide again is flowing,Brightening, rising, wave on wave;
Moving preludes strange and grave
In many a chasm and secret cave;
Like stormy rumours growing.
Soon, advanced for joy or woe,
With placid heaving or tempestuous roll,
Its plenitude shall touch the goal,
And cease to flow:
Then to a pause the ebb succeed,
And wave on wave, with falling chime,
Forsake its drift of wealth or weed
Along the dusking shore and in the crypts of Time.
![]() | Peace and war | ![]() |