University of Virginia Library


28

REST.

A victory! Illumined towns rejoice!
Pale, pale our cheeks when deadly tidings come!
Is this eternal,—cannon, trump, and drum?
Thank God this troubled century of noise
Shall grow as the untrodden desert dumb.
This England's fame of which we sing and rave,
Shall seem, years hence, unto the eyes of some,
Like the effaced inscription on a grave.
Our many-noised metropolis shall pass,
And Silence shall grow over it like grass;
And in the tender twilights of the year
Its site shall be the haunt of summer birds;
Tradition wandering there shall murmur words
That take no shape of meaning to the ear.