 | The Poetry of Real Life |  |
TRUE STRENGTH.
Who is the happy warrior may draw
The sword of God, and wield it in His name?
One, like Himself, without reproach or blame:
Whose ends, like heaven's own, are free from flaw!
He from its scabbard may pluck forth, in awe
And holy fear, that sword, which, as a flame,
Shall wither up his foes: then, whence it came,
Replace it with all speed; for not in war
Doth Wisdom show her true supremacy;
From out the waste of Chaos to create
Calm fabrics, like the mansions of the sky,
To base on virtue an enduring state:
This is her nobler task, her office high;
War makes the sudden mighty, peace th' enduring great!
The sword of God, and wield it in His name?
One, like Himself, without reproach or blame:
Whose ends, like heaven's own, are free from flaw!
He from its scabbard may pluck forth, in awe
And holy fear, that sword, which, as a flame,
Shall wither up his foes: then, whence it came,
Replace it with all speed; for not in war
Doth Wisdom show her true supremacy;
From out the waste of Chaos to create
Calm fabrics, like the mansions of the sky,
To base on virtue an enduring state:
This is her nobler task, her office high;
War makes the sudden mighty, peace th' enduring great!
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It is not strength of nerve or sinew may
Draw forth God's sword, though Hercules should try:
Yet to the chosen touch, which to the sky
For sanction looks, yea! to a maid's essáy,
As erst to Joan of Arc's, 't will straight give way:
And with it they may work their mission high;
But, should their hearts be touched with vanity,
Ambition, or from the dírect end stray,
Its strength departs from it: it works no more
Than brittle steel in mortal hand; for ne'er
In grasp impure hath it celestial power
To lasting things; brute strength of sinew here
Over its like may triumph, but before
Invisible strength it bows in awe and fear.
Draw forth God's sword, though Hercules should try:
Yet to the chosen touch, which to the sky
For sanction looks, yea! to a maid's essáy,
As erst to Joan of Arc's, 't will straight give way:
And with it they may work their mission high;
But, should their hearts be touched with vanity,
Ambition, or from the dírect end stray,
Its strength departs from it: it works no more
Than brittle steel in mortal hand; for ne'er
In grasp impure hath it celestial power
To lasting things; brute strength of sinew here
Over its like may triumph, but before
Invisible strength it bows in awe and fear.
| The Poetry of Real Life | |