Classic Poem

I.

The Sun hath ridden into the sky,
And the Night gone to her lair;
 Yet all is asleep
 On the mighty Deep,
And all in the calm gray air.

II.

All seemeth as calm as an infant's dream,
As far as the eye may ken:
 But the cannon blast,
 That just now passed,
Hath awakened ten thousand men.

III.

An order is blown from ship to ship;
All round and round it rings;
 And each sailor is stirred
 By the warlike word,
And his jackeThe downwards flings.

IV.

He strippeth his arms to his shoulders strong;
He girdeth his loins about;
 And he answers the cry
 Of his foemen nigh,
With a cheer and a noble shout.

V.

What follows?—a puff, and a flash of light,
And the booming of a gun;
 And a scream, that shoots
 To the heart's red roots,
And we know that a fight's begun.


VI.

A thousand shot are at once let loose:
Each flies from its brazen den,
 (Like the Plague s swift breath,)
 On its deed of death,
And smites down a file of men.

VII.

The guns in their thick-tongued thunder speak,
And the frigates all rock and ride,
 And timbers crash,
 And the mad waves dash,
Feaming all far and wide:

VIII.

And high as the skies run piercing cries,
All telling one tale of woe,—
 That the struggle still,
 Between good and ill,
Goes on, in the earth below.

*****

IX.

Day pauses, in gloom, on his western road:
The Moon returns again:
 But, of all who looked bright,
 In the morning light,
There are only a thousand men.

X.

Look up, at the brooding clouds on high!
Look up, at the awful sun!
 And, behold,—the sea flood
 Is all red with blood:
Hush!—a battle is lost,—and won!