As I ponder'd in silence, Returning upon my poems, considering, lingering long, A Phantom arose before me with distrustful aspect, Terrible in beauty, age, and power, The genius of poets of old lands, As to me directing like flame its eyes, With finger pointing to many immortal songs, And menacing voice, What singest thou? it said, Know'st thou not there is but one theme for ever-enduring bards? And that is the theme of War, the fortune of battles, The making of perfect soldiers. Be it so, then I answer'd, I too haughty Shade also sing war, and a longer and greater one than any, Waged in my book with varying fortune, with flight, advance and retreat, victory deferr'd and waveri (Yet methinks certain, or as good as certain, at the last,) the field the world, For life and death, for the Body and for the eternal Soul, Lo, I too am come, chanting the chant of battles, I above all promote brave soldiers. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WILLIE BREW'D A PECK O' MAUT by ROBERT BURNS EXCELSIOR by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW TO MRS. MARTHA BLOUNT (ON HER BIRTHDAY, 1723) by ALEXANDER POPE TO THE MEN OF KENT by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH TO HIS LYRE by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS TRISTRAM AND ISEULT by MATTHEW ARNOLD |