 | Lyrics (1895) |  |
115
AN ENGLISH SHELL
[_]
[In the summer of 1893 it is said that a peasant, ploughing in a field near Sebastopol, came upon an unexploded English shell, fired in the Crimean war; this he incautiously struck, when the shell exploded, blowing him and his team to pieces.]
I was an English shell,
Cunningly made and well,
With a heart of fire in an iron frame,
Ready to break in fury and flame,
Slice through the ranks my raging way,
Dying myself, to slay.
Cunningly made and well,
With a heart of fire in an iron frame,
Ready to break in fury and flame,
Slice through the ranks my raging way,
Dying myself, to slay.
Out from the heart of the battle-ship,
Yelling a song of death, I rose,
Brake from the cannon's smoky lip
Into a land of foes:—
Yelling a song of death, I rose,
Brake from the cannon's smoky lip
Into a land of foes:—
116
How was I baffled? I soared and sank
Over the bastion, across the hill,
Into the lap of a grassy bank,
Impotent there to kill.
Slowly the thunder died away;—
My merry comrades, how you roared,
Loud and jubilant, while I lay
Sunk in the slothful sward!
Peace came back with her corn and wine,
Smiling faint with a bleeding breast,
While in the offing, over the brine
My battle-ship steered to the West.
Over the bastion, across the hill,
Into the lap of a grassy bank,
Impotent there to kill.
Slowly the thunder died away;—
My merry comrades, how you roared,
Loud and jubilant, while I lay
Sunk in the slothful sward!
Peace came back with her corn and wine,
Smiling faint with a bleeding breast,
While in the offing, over the brine
My battle-ship steered to the West.
Then were the long slopes crowned again
With clustering vines and waving grain,
Winter by winter the stealing rain
Fretted me rotting there.
Suddenly once as I sadly slept,
Thinkling, the slow team over me stept,
Jarring the ploughshare, I was swept
Into the breezy air.
Why did he tempt me? I had lain
Year by year in the peaceful rain,
Till my lionlike heart had grown
Dull and motionless, heavy as stone;—
Mocking, he smote me:—
With clustering vines and waving grain,
Winter by winter the stealing rain
Fretted me rotting there.
117
Thinkling, the slow team over me stept,
Jarring the ploughshare, I was swept
Into the breezy air.
Why did he tempt me? I had lain
Year by year in the peaceful rain,
Till my lionlike heart had grown
Dull and motionless, heavy as stone;—
Mocking, he smote me:—
Then I leapt
Out in my anger, and screamed and swept
Him as he laughed in a storm of blood,
Shattered sinew and flying brain,
Brake the cottage and scarred the wood,
Roaring across the plain.
How should you blame me? Ay, 'twas peace!
War was the word I had learned to know;—
Think you, I was an English shell,
Tráined one lesson alone to spell—
I had vowed as I lay below,
Vowed to perish and find release
Slaying an English foe.
Out in my anger, and screamed and swept
Him as he laughed in a storm of blood,
Shattered sinew and flying brain,
Brake the cottage and scarred the wood,
Roaring across the plain.
How should you blame me? Ay, 'twas peace!
118
Think you, I was an English shell,
Tráined one lesson alone to spell—
I had vowed as I lay below,
Vowed to perish and find release
Slaying an English foe.
| Lyrics (1895) | |