22
IN WAR TIME.
The one, with forehead saintly bland
And lips of blessing, not command,
Leaned, weeping, on her olive wand.
And lips of blessing, not command,
Leaned, weeping, on her olive wand.
The other's brows were scarred and knit,
His restless eyes were watch-fires lit,
His hands for battle-gauntlets fit.
His restless eyes were watch-fires lit,
His hands for battle-gauntlets fit.
"How long!"—I knew the voice of Peace,—
"Is there no respite? no release?
When shall the hopeless quarrel cease?
"Is there no respite? no release?
When shall the hopeless quarrel cease?
"O Lord, how long!—One human soul
Is more than any parchment scroll,
Or any flag thy winds unroll.
Is more than any parchment scroll,
Or any flag thy winds unroll.
"What price was Ellsworth's, young and brave?
How weigh the gift that Lyon gave,
Or count the cost of Winthrop's grave?
How weigh the gift that Lyon gave,
Or count the cost of Winthrop's grave?
