The poetical works of John Nicholson ... Carefully edited from the original editions, with additional notes and a sketch of his life and writings. By W. G. Hird |
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 | The poetical works of John Nicholson |  |
Now front to front the hostile armies are,
Each bosom feels the dread of civil war;
Awful the silence—not a sound is heard
Of drum, or trumpet, or commander's word,
But just a solemn hum before they fire,
For brothers wished from brothers to retire;
And, truly, but for Cromwell's haughty pride,
All had been friends, and not a warrior died.
What anxious breasts were left in every hall,
Lest the loved lord should in the conflict fall!
The lady, often, with her children prays
For Heav'n's protection in the battle's blaze.
Each bosom feels the dread of civil war;
Awful the silence—not a sound is heard
Of drum, or trumpet, or commander's word,
But just a solemn hum before they fire,
For brothers wished from brothers to retire;
And, truly, but for Cromwell's haughty pride,
All had been friends, and not a warrior died.
What anxious breasts were left in every hall,
Lest the loved lord should in the conflict fall!
The lady, often, with her children prays
For Heav'n's protection in the battle's blaze.
| The poetical works of John Nicholson | |