Viii

Like swelling river waves that strain, Onward the people crowd In serried, billowing train. And those so slow to yield, On many a hard fought field, Muster together Like a dark cloud In summer weather, Whose threatening thunders suddenly are stilled,-- And all the world is filled With smiling rest. Victory to him was pain, Till he had won his enemies by love; Had leashed the eagle and unloosed the dove; Setting on war's red roll the argent seal of peace. So here they form their solid ranks again, But in no mood of hatred or disdain. They say: "Thou who art fallen at last, Beleaguered stealthily, o'ercome by death, Thy conqueror now shall be magnanimous Even as thou wast to us. But not for thee can we blot out the past: We would not, if we might, forget thy last Great act of war, that with a gentle hand Brought back our hearts unto the mighty mother, For whose defence and honor armed we stand. We hail thee brother, And so salute thy name with holy breath!"