University of Virginia Library

Search this document 

collapse section
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
THE STRIFE, AND THE REPOSE.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


91

THE STRIFE, AND THE REPOSE.

Lo, a peasant-child lay sleeping,
Dream-bound in the sun,
Changes into life were leaping
Round him, many a one.
There were sounds of village wassail,
Borne upon the breeze;
Armëd bands of lord and vassal
Swept beneath the trees.
There were groans of ire and anguish,
Outraged homes among;
Vows of vengeance ne'er to languish,
Through closed chambers rung.
Then came roar and strife of battle,
Clash of sword and spear,
Rallying-shout and cannon's rattle,
Death-cries, dread to hear.

92

Women's eyes were red with weeping—
Freedom's race was run,
While that peasant-child lay sleeping,
Dream-bound in the sun.
And that day a king descended
From his place of pride,
Straight from throne to dungeon wended,
And to doom beside.
While a tyrant smote the nation
With an evil hand;
Rapine, fire, and desolation,
Raged at his command.
Goodly towns were ta'en and plundered,
Stately halls laid low;
Loving hearts for ever sundered,
Beauty quenched in woe.
Morning dawned in smiles and hearkened
To glad sounds alone;
Evening found the glory darkened,
And the gladness gone.

93

So was wassail changed for weeping
Empire lost and won,
While that peasant-child lay sleeping,
Dream-bound in the sun.