STRANGE chord! the weir-pool's tussling dance, Curt crows, and a pleading bell; While westward day with a maenad glance Bids the blue-lipped floods farewell. The star-led enemy airs begin To prowl in a deadly crawl, And along these village parapets thin Swoops Night like the end of all. Black amphitheatre, eyeless Shades That stalk the monstrous stage, Here vainly descend your ghostly raids And measureless icy rage! Here village blood to the threat in the air Responds with sparkling streams, And here and there and everywhere Humanity's victory beams. See Peter in the latticed loft Put the last of his work away; His mood -- the apple-scent not so soft, And the lantern's honey ray So paints his cheek, that the urchin lad That haunts him whenever he can Copies his tread, and calls him dad, And feels ten times a man. In the inn the creased young shopman shines At the lancers and quadrilles, Up and down, in and out the smiling lines His twinkling courtesy thrills Lavinia here, Amelia there -- Their blushes flower in pleasure, And smoothing back their straying hair They enchant themselves with the measure. Or perhaps on the candled platform stands The carpenter of the place, Gripping his songbook with both hands; To the piano's strumming bass He venturing adds his woodnotes wild; We applaud the patriot feeling, And, flats and sharps so reconciled, We "list the music stealing." Often again in the flame-like cold The church's rustling aisles Are beset with quiring young and old For whom Christ's coming smiles: "On Jordan's banks" -- O how the rose Breaks red from each dusty tomb, And the team from the @3Bull@1 come proudly to pull Their bells as Christ nears home. Midwinter mirth! the magic of earth; The threadbare soul rejoices And glittering hears by time's hoarse weirs Through the rain those honest voices; The red-screened windows of schoolhouse and inn Dart life through the moorlands raw, And the lovetalk, carolling, dancing din, Are the heart's invincible law. |