Page:Zinzendorff and Other Poems.pdf/234

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was a sound of war, A spirit-stirring shock, A new-born nation strove for life, And a monarch came down with his bannered strife, As the lion meets the flock.

A youthful hero crossed The raging of the sea, The blood of France was in his heart, And it glowed as it took that infant's part, Who struggled to be free.

Years sped their noiseless flight, The warriors went to rest, And the full-grown child with a giant's might, Went forth in the strength of his lordly right, And watched by ocean's billows bright, For the coming of a guest.

And the shout of welcome sped From the mountain to the main, Fresh flowers of gratitude wreathed a crown, And the veteran's tear with the babe's fell down, Like a gush of summer rain.

The idol-hero came, Not with his sword of might, The silver-hairs on his brow were strown, And the eye was sunk, that like lightning shone, In the van of the stormy fight.