None, like him, arose, and gave
The grave's debt unto the grave;
None among them wise to know:
"Dreaming cannot kindle dust,
Down into the earth it must,
Dust is only made to breed
Nurture for the new-sown seed."
Night, black night,—and night again
Over children, women, men!
O could I with levin-flame
Save them from the straw-death's shame!
[Leaps up.]
Gloomy visions I see sweep
Like the Wild Hunt through the night.
Lo, the Time is Tempest-dight,
Calls for heroes, death to dare,
Calls for naked steel to leap,
And for scabbards to hang bare;—
Kinsfolk, lo, to battle riding,
While their gentle brothers, hiding,
From the hat of darkness peep.
And yet more I do divine—
All the horror of their shame,—
Men that shriek and wives that whine,
Deaf to every cry and claim,
See them on their brows imprinting
"Poor folks sea-bound" for their name,
"Humble farthings of God's minting!"
Pale they listen to the fray,—
Willing-weakness for their shield.—
Rainbow o'er the mead of May,
Flag, where fliest thou now afield?
Where's that tricolor to-day,—
Which the wind of myriad song,
Beat and bellied from the mast
Till a zealot king at last
