Page:Tragedies of Seneca (1907) Miller.djvu/329

Rh Will ever feel its ties. When wrath, by some great cause aroused, Hath burst the bonds of amity, And raised the dreadful cry of war; When gleaming squadrons thunder down With champing steeds; when flashing swords, By carnage-maddened Mars upreared, Gleam with a deadly rain of blows: E'en then for sacred piety Those warring hands will sheathe the sword And join in the clasp of peace. What god has given this sudden lull In the midst of loud alarms? But now Throughout Mycenae's borders rang The noisy prelude of a strife 'Twixt brothers' arms. Here mothers pale Embraced their sons, and the trembling wife Looked on her armed lord in fear, While the sword to his hand reluctant came, Foul with the rust of peace. One strove to renew the tottering walls. And one to strengthen the shattered towers, And close the gates with iron bars; While on the battlements the guard His anxious nightly vigils kept. The daily fear of war is worse Than war itself. But fallen now are the sword's dire threats, The deep-voiced trumpet blare is still, And the shrill, harsh notes of the clarion Are heard no more. While peace profound Broods once again o'er the happy state. So when, beneath the storm blast's lash. The heaving waves break on the shore Of Bruttium, and Scylla roars Responsive from her cavern's depths; Then, even within their sheltered port, The sailors fear the foaming sea Which greedy Charybdis vomits up;