 | Poems |  |
I.
The dense smoke's volumes, rolling pitchy gloom
Across the darkened sky—the vivid play
Of levelled flashes, glancing bright dismay—
The winged Artillery's loud exulting boom,
With fierce joy bellowing forth a nation's doom—
These, and the bounding thrill, the rapture-rife
Intense intoxication of the strife,
The deadly revelry making Earth a Tomb—
Across the darkened sky—the vivid play
Of levelled flashes, glancing bright dismay—
The winged Artillery's loud exulting boom,
With fierce joy bellowing forth a nation's doom—
These, and the bounding thrill, the rapture-rife
Intense intoxication of the strife,
The deadly revelry making Earth a Tomb—
Declare the War-delirium at its height!—
Meanwhile, in all the uproar of the scene,
Curbing his pawing steed—unmoved—serene—
Sits Wellington! but not the stern delight
That fires the common warrior, can excite
His features' hardy calm—wherein exprest
Most visibly, looks forth the Mind, at Rest
In riotous Amaze—in wild Affright
Composed—whose home is on the Battle-field—
The Petrel of the War-storm—in repose
Where grappling in the death-gripe thousands close!
In calmest consciousness of Strength, self-steeled,
Behold in him the Master-mind revealed!
The cloudless brow—the clear well-opened eye—
The half-smile on the lips—all foes defy—
His very Quiet is a People's shield!
Meanwhile, in all the uproar of the scene,
Curbing his pawing steed—unmoved—serene—
Sits Wellington! but not the stern delight
That fires the common warrior, can excite
His features' hardy calm—wherein exprest
Most visibly, looks forth the Mind, at Rest
In riotous Amaze—in wild Affright
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The Petrel of the War-storm—in repose
Where grappling in the death-gripe thousands close!
In calmest consciousness of Strength, self-steeled,
Behold in him the Master-mind revealed!
The cloudless brow—the clear well-opened eye—
The half-smile on the lips—all foes defy—
His very Quiet is a People's shield!
So, proudly rising in the hushed profound
Of vacant purple, soars some Alpine Peak,
Smiling in sunny calm—while, surging round
Its base, wide foaming Mist-waves boil and break!
Of vacant purple, soars some Alpine Peak,
Smiling in sunny calm—while, surging round
Its base, wide foaming Mist-waves boil and break!
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