 | Sonnets Round the Coast |  |
147
I. THE WARRIOR'S CRADLE-SONG.
Bright in the moon-washed heaven the CharioteerHangs, and Orion listens wide-awake;
Continuous rolled, without a pause or break
The plunging surge from cape to cape I hear;
Bells clang, clash cymbals, horses prance and rear,
Now with a crowd's acclaim whole cities shake,
Now hosts, in ambush laid, hoarse whisperings make,
Anon the cannon shout and armies cheer.
I could not wonder that the men who sleep
Lulled into dreams or woke by sounds like these,
Should feel ambition in their souls had birth,
Should cross for fame the wild applauding seas,
With noise of arms should climb the imperial steep
And thunder at the shores of half the earth.
| Sonnets Round the Coast | |