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And thus, with girdle round his waist,
Whereon the Banner-staff might rest
At need, he stood, advancing high
The glittering, floating Pageantry.
Who sees him ?—many see, and One
With unparticipated gaze;
Who ’mong these thousands Friend hath none,
And treads in solitary ways.
He, following wheresoe’er he might,
Hath watched the Banner from afar.
As Shepherds watch a lonely star,
Or Mariners the distant light
That guides them on a stormy night.
And now, upon a chosen plot
Of rising ground, yon heathy spot!
He takes this day his far-off stand,
With breast unmailed, unweaponed hand.
—Bold is his aspect; but his eye
Is pregnant with anxiety,
