As our ploughshare is the Sabre:
Here's the harvest of our labour;
For behind those battered breaches
Are our foes with all their riches:
There is Glory—there is plunder—
Then away despite of thunder!
[From an autograph MS. in the possession of Mr. Murray,
now for the first time printed.]
[LOVE AND DEATH.]
I watched thee when the foe was at our side,
Ready to strike at him—or thee and me.
Were safety hopeless—rather than divide
Aught with one loved save love and liberty:
I watched thee on the breakers, when the rock
Received our prow and all was storm and fear,
And bade thee cling to me through every shock;
This arm would be thy bark, or breast thy bier.
I watched thee when the fever glazed thine eyes,
Yielding my couch and stretched me on the ground,
When overworn with watching, ne'er to rise
From thence if thou an early grave hadst found.
The earthquake came, and rocked the quivering wall,