Page:Battle-Pieces and Aspects of the War.djvu/188



there are of gentlest breed,

Yet strong, like every goodly thing;

The discipline of arms refines,

And the wave gives tempering.

The damasked blade its beam can fling;

It lends the last grave grace:

The hawk, the hound, and sworded nobleman

In Titian's picture for a king,

Are of Hunter or warrior race.

In social halls a favored guest

In years that follow victory won,

How sweet to feel your festal fame,

In woman's glance instinctive thrown:

Repose is yours—your deed is known,

It musks the amber wine;

It lives, and sheds a litle from storied days

Rich as October sunsets brown,

Which make the barren place to shine.