Poems (Cook)/Stanzas (The ruthless hand of savage strife)

by Eliza Cook

STANZAS.

The ruthless hand of savage strife
 Lays waste the fair and smiling bowers:
The ruby flood of streaming blood
 Darkens the earth and chokes the flowers.
But let the fearful day be past—
 The dust forgets the sanguine stain;
The crush'd blade rises fresh and fast;
 And leaf and flower are there again.

The sunlight gilds the rippling tide—
 The wave is gentle in its flow—
Till some rude bark, in sweeping pride,
 Disturbs it with a cleaving prow.
Foam dashes as the keel speeds on,
 Its chafing track awakes the main;
A moment, and the foam is gone—
 The ruffled waters sleep again.

The clouds may meet in frowning form,
 And gather in the face of day;
The shadow of the scowling storm
 May overcast the noontide ray;
But soon the south wind breathes serene,—
 The bee and bird are on the plain;
The sky forgets the storm hath been—
 And all is joy and light again.

So should our bosoms take the jar
 That thoughtless speech or deed may wake;
The wounds which, soon heal'd, slightly scar,—
 Kept open, fester, bleed, and ache.
Let not the seed of anger live—
 The yielding heart knows least of pain:
'Tis wisest to forget, forgive;
 And dwell in love and peace again.