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John Marr and Other Poems Part 13

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A MEDITATION

How often in the years that close, When truce had stilled the sieging gun, The soldiers, mounting on their works, With mutual curious glance have run From face to face along the fronting show, And kinsman spied, or friend--even in a foe.

What thoughts conflicting then were shared, While sacred tenderness perforce Welled from the heart and wet the eye; And something of a strange remorse Rebelled against the sanctioned sin of blood, And Christian wars of natural brotherhood.

Then stirred the G.o.d within the breast-- The witness that is man's at birth; A deep misgiving undermined Each plea and subterfuge of earth; They felt in that rapt pause, with warning rife, Horror and anguish for the civil strife.

Of North or South they reeked not then, Warm pa.s.sion cursed the cause of war: Can Africa pay back this blood Spilt on Potomac's sh.o.r.e?



Yet doubts, as pangs, were vain the strife to stay, And hands that fain had clasped again could slay.

How frequent in the camp was seen The herald from the hostile one, A guest and frank companion there When the proud formal talk was done; The pipe of peace was smoked even 'mid the war, And fields in Mexico again fought o'er.

In Western battle long they lay So near opposed in trench or pit, That foeman unto foeman called As men who screened in tavern sit: "You bravely fight" each to the other said-- "Toss us a biscuit!" o'er the wall it sped.

And pale on those same slopes, a boy-- A stormer, bled in noon-day glare; No aid the Blue-coats then could bring, He cried to them who nearest were, And out there came 'mid howling shot and sh.e.l.l A daring foe who him befriended well.

Mark the great Captains on both sides, The soldiers with the broad renown-- They all were messmates on the Hudson's marge, Beneath one roof they laid them down; And, free from hate in many an after pa.s.s, Strove as in school-boy rivalry of the cla.s.s.

A darker side there is; but doubt In Nature's charity hovers there: If men for new agreement yearn, Then old upbraiding best forbear: "The South's the sinner!" Well, so let it be; But shall the North sin worse, and stand the Pharisee?

O, now that brave men yield the sword, Mine be the manful soldier-view; By how much more they boldly warred, By so much more is mercy due: When Vicksburg fell, and the moody files marched out, Silent the victors stood, scorning to raise a shout.

Poems From Mardi

WE FISH

We fish, we fish, we merrily swim, We care not for friend nor for foe.

Our fins are stout, Our tails are out, As through the seas we go.

Fish, Fish, we are fish with red gills; Naught disturbs us, our blood is at zero: We are buoyant because of our bags, Being many, each fish is a hero.

We care not what is it, this life That we follow, this phantom unknown; To swim, it's exceedingly pleasant,-- So swim away, making a foam.

This strange looking thing by our side, Not for safety, around it we flee:-- Its shadow's so shady, that's all,-- We only swim under its lee.

And as for the eels there above, And as for the fowls of the air, We care not for them nor their ways, As we cheerily glide afar!

We fish, we fish, we merrily swim, We care not for friend nor for foe: Our fins are stout, Our tails are out, As through the seas we go.

INVOCATION

Ha, ha, G.o.ds and kings; fill high, one and all; Drink, drink! shout and drink! mad respond to the call!

Fill fast, and fill full; 'gainst the goblet ne'er sin; Quaff there, at high tide, to the uttermost rim:-- Flood-tide, and soul-tide to the brim!

Who with wine in him fears? who thinks of his cares?

Who sighs to be wise, when wine in him flares?

Water sinks down below, in currents full slow; But wine mounts on high with its genial glow:-- Welling up, till the brain overflow!

As the spheres, with a roll, some fiery of soul, Others golden, with music, revolve round the pole; So let our cups, radiant with many hued wines, Round and round in groups circle, our Zodiac's Signs:-- Round reeling, and ringing their chimes!

Then drink, G.o.ds and kings; wine merriment brings; It bounds through the veins; there, jubilant sings.

Let it ebb, then, and flow; wine never grows dim; Drain down that bright tide at the foam beaded rim:-- Fill up, every cup, to the brim!

DIRGE

We drop our dead in the sea, The bottomless, bottomless sea; Each bubble a hollow sigh, As it sinks forever and aye.

We drop our dead in the sea,-- The dead reek not of aught; We drop our dead in the sea,-- The sea ne'er gives it a thought.

Sink, sink, oh corpse, still sink, Far down in the bottomless sea, Where the unknown forms do prowl, Down, down in the bottomless sea.

'Tis night above, and night all round, And night will it be with thee; As thou sinkest, and sinkest for aye, Deeper down in the bottomless sea.

MARLENA

Far off in the sea is Marlena, A land of shades and streams, A land of many delights, Dark and bold, thy sh.o.r.es, Marlena; But green, and timorous, thy soft knolls, Crouching behind the woodlands.

All shady thy hills; all gleaming thy springs, Like eyes in the earth looking at you.

How charming thy haunts, Marlena!-- Oh, the waters that flow through Onimoo; Oh, the leaves that rustle through Ponoo: Oh, the roses that blossom in Tarma.

Come, and see the valley of Vina: How sweet, how sweet, the Isles from Hina: 'Tis aye afternoon of the full, full moon, And ever the season of fruit, And ever the hour of flowers, And never the time of rains and gales, All in and about Marlena.

Soft sigh the boughs in the stilly air, Soft lap the beach the billows there; And in the woods or by the streams, You needs must nod in the Land of Dreams.

PIPE SONG

Care is all stuff:-- Puff! Puff!

To puff is enough:-- Puff! Puff More musky than snuff, And warm is a puff:-- Puff! Puff Here we sit mid our puffs, Like old lords in their ruffs, Snug as bears in their m.u.f.fs:-- Puff! Puff Then puff, puff, puff, For care is all stuff, Puffed off in a puff-- Puff! Puff!

SONG OF YOOMY

Departed the pride, and the glory of Mardi: The vaunt of her isles sleeps deep in the sea, That rolls o'er his corse with a hush, His warriors bend over their spears, His sisters gaze upward and mourn.

Weep, weep, for Adondo is dead!

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John Marr and Other Poems Part 13 summary

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