And when the sun puts out his lamp We'll sleep serene within the camp, Trusting to his invet'rate skill Who leads the stars oer yonder hill, Whose discipline doth never cease To watch the slumberings of peace, And from the virtuous hold afar The melancholy din of war. -- For ye our sentries still outlie, The earth your pallet and your screen the sky. From steadfastness I will not swerve Remembering my sweet reserve. With all your kindness shown from year to year Ye do but civil demons still appear, Still to my mind Ye are inhuman and unkind, And bear an untamed aspect to my sight After the "civil-suited" night As if ye had lain out Like to the Indian scout Who lingers in the purlieus of the towns With unexplored grace and savage frowns. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EPITAPH ON A HARE by WILLIAM COWPER HAIL COLUMBIA by JOSEPH HOPKINSON TO DOCTOR EMPIRIC by BEN JONSON REMEMBER by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI THE BAYADERE by FRANCIS SALTUS SALTUS CALIBAN IN THE COAL MINES by LOUIS UNTERMEYER ANNIVERS: BAPTISMI by JOSEPH BEAUMONT |