Classic Poem

Prove his own love of peace and sanction theirs,
The very quaintness of that precedent,
Which sought to baulk a warrior-king's intent
By quiet looks, and unofficial prayers,—
Blended with somewhat chivalrous and bold,
Even in the very act of their appeal
To him, full autocrat from head to heel,
Sworn to his own great plans, a lifetime old—
Might hit his fancy with a pleasant zest,
Might haunt his memory with a dim control,
Among a thousand thoughts the last and best,
While that stern leaguer of Sebastopol
Alternately exalted, and deprest,
Day after day, the balance of his soul.