“O warrior with the burnished arms—
With bullion cord and tassel—
Pray tell me of the lurid charms
Of service and the fierce alarms:
The storming of the castle,
The charge across the smoking field,
The rifles’ busy rattle—
What thoughts inspire the men who wield
The blade—their gallant souls
how steeled
And fortified in battle.”
“Nay, man of peace, seek not to
know
War’s baleful fascination—
The soldier’s hunger for the foe,
His dread of safety, joy to go
To court annihilation.
Though calling bugles blow not now,
Nor drums begin to beat yet,
One fear unmans me, I’ll allow,
And poisons all my pleasure: How
If I should get my feet wet!”
“A LITERARY METHOD.”
His poems Riley says that he indites
Upon an empty stomach.
Heavenly Powers,
Feed him throat-full: for what the
beggar writes
Upon his empty stomach empties
ours!
A WELCOME.
Because you call yourself Knights Templar,
and
There’s neither Knight nor Temple
in the land,—
Because you thus by vain pretense
degrade
To paltry purposes traditions grand,—
Because to cheat the ignorant you say
The thing that’s not, elated still
to sway
The crass credulity of gaping
fools
And women by fantastical display,—
Because no sacred fires did ever warm
Your hearts, high knightly service to
perform—
A woman’s breast or
coffer of a man
The only citadel you dare to storm,—
Because while railing still at lord and
peer,
At pomp and fuss-and-feathers while you
jeer,
Each member of your order
tries to graft
A peacock’s tail upon his barren
rear,—
Because that all these things are thus
and so,
I bid you welcome to our city. Lo!
You’re free to come,
and free to stay, and free
As soon as it shall please you, sirs—to
go.
