Classic Poem

Mars ! — god of armies! mid the ranks of war
Known by thy golden helm, and rushing car,
Before whose lance with sound terrific fall
The massy fortress and the embattled wall;
Father of victory! whose mighty powers
And brazen spears protect Olympus' towers;
By whom the brave to high renown are led,
Whom justice honours and whom tyrants dread;
Who mid the seven revolving orbs above,
O'er heaven's blue arch thy fiery coursers drove. —
Hail, friend to man! whose cares to youth impart
The arm unwearied, and the undaunted heart. —
O, be thy favouring ear to me inclin'd,
Breathe martial vigour through thy votary's mind;
So shall my breast the bold attack oppose,
Or mock the vengeance of insidious foes:
Yet while my bosom glows with martial fire,
Still with the love of peace my soul inspire.
Be concord's sacred laws my first delight;
Far from the dangers and the toils of fight.