I

CANNON his name, Cannon his voice, he came. Who heard of him heard shaken hills, An earth at quake, to quiet stamped; Who looked on him beheld the will of wills, The driver of wild flocks where lions ramped: Beheld War’s liveries flee him, like lumped grass Nid-nod to ground beneath the cuffing storm; While laurelled over his Imperial form, Forth from her bearded tube of lacquey brass, Reverberant notes and long blew volant Fame. Incarnate Victory, Power manifest, Infernal or God-given to mankind, On the quenched volcano’s cusp did he take stand, A conquering army’s height above the land, Which calls that army offspring of its breast, And sees it mid the starry camps enshrined; His eye the cannon’s flame, The cannon’s cave his mind.