Anster Fair, and Other Poems By William Tennant. With A Prefatory Memoir of the Author and his Writings |
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ODE TO PEACE.
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 | Anster Fair, and Other Poems |  |
ODE TO PEACE.
1814.
Daughter of God! that sits on high
Amid the dances of the sky,
And guidest with thy gentle sway
The planets on their tuneful way;
Sweet Peace! shall ne'er again
The smile of thy most holy face,
From thine etherial dwelling-place,
Rejoice the wretched weary race
Of discord-breathing men?
Amid the dances of the sky,
And guidest with thy gentle sway
The planets on their tuneful way;
Sweet Peace! shall ne'er again
The smile of thy most holy face,
From thine etherial dwelling-place,
Rejoice the wretched weary race
Of discord-breathing men?
Too long, oh gladness-giving Queen!
Thy tarrying in heav'n has been;
Too long o'er this fair blooming world
The flag of blood has been unfurl'd,
Polluting God's pure day;
Whilst, as each madd'ning people reels,
War onward drives his scythed wheels,
And at his horse's bloody heels
Shriek Murder and Dismay!
Thy tarrying in heav'n has been;
Too long o'er this fair blooming world
The flag of blood has been unfurl'd,
Polluting God's pure day;
Whilst, as each madd'ning people reels,
War onward drives his scythed wheels,
And at his horse's bloody heels
Shriek Murder and Dismay!
Oft have I wept to hear the cry
Of widow wailing bitterly;
To see the parent's silent tear
For children fall'n beneath the spear;
And I have felt so sore
The sense of human guilt and woe,
That I, in Virtue's passion'd glow,
Have cursed (my soul was wounded so)
The shape of man I bore!
Of widow wailing bitterly;
To see the parent's silent tear
For children fall'n beneath the spear;
And I have felt so sore
The sense of human guilt and woe,
That I, in Virtue's passion'd glow,
Have cursed (my soul was wounded so)
The shape of man I bore!
Then come from thy serene abode,
Thou gladness-giving Child of God!
And cease the world's ensanguin'd strife,
And reconcile my soul to life;
For much I long to see,
Ere to the grave I down descend,
Thy hand her blessed branch extend,
And to the world's remotest end
Wave Love and Harmony!
Thou gladness-giving Child of God!
And cease the world's ensanguin'd strife,
And reconcile my soul to life;
For much I long to see,
Ere to the grave I down descend,
Thy hand her blessed branch extend,
And to the world's remotest end
Wave Love and Harmony!
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