Was ever secret misery confest
To such grim audience!
O hapless fate
For this sweet girl, and for her guiltier mate.
Powers of the world, and O, ye Powers Unseen,
Be stern, yet be ye kind! Let be the ends
Of justice served; but hold a shield between
Souls and the smiting sword. O, make amends
In the oncoming years, or some far age.
They are but caught in Nature's deathless rage;
The fire that in their bodies burned doth hold
The sun in heaven; part is it of the force
That keeps the stars each on its mystic course,
While the all-changing universe grows never old.
"IN THE CITIES"
I
In the cities no longer the blaring of trumpets that summon to battle,
From splendid towers the banners flash not forth in the breeze,
No longer the ringing of war-bells, and the clattering sound of horsemen,
The clangor of sword on shield, nor the cries of the feudal fighters
Hurrying into the streets to strike with bullet and steel;
Clamoring, battering down; assailing high walls and towers;
Rushing maddened, furious, to the killing of fellow-men.
II
