STILL on the hilt, O Patience, keep thy hand! Though in the sheath the uneasy sword may leap That waits, and, for its waiting, cannot sleep. For it doth envy Arthur's knightly brand And each fame-wreathed weapon, hero-manned, That the world's freemen in remembrance keep. Oh, how can steel be deaf when nations weep With the loud sobbing of the desolate strand! Are there who think, "The hilt hears, not the blade, Snug in its silence"? Ah, from storms upcaught Fall not too soon the lightnings of the Lord. Justice, thou God in Man, when thou hast weighed All in thy balance, show us what we ought. Then, Patience, not till then, loose the appointed sword. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FEAST OF LIGHTS by EMMA LAZARUS ON A FAIR BEGGAR by PHILIP AYRES IN MEMORIAM (EASTER 1915) by PHILIP EDWARD THOMAS VOICES by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS PROMETHEUS BOUND: PROMETHEUS THE TEACHER OF MEN by AESCHYLUS |