And her face was to him an angel’s face, and love was all in all.
—What is this light in the southern sky, painting a red alarm?
What is this trumpet call, which sounds through peaceful village and farm,—
Jarring the sweet idyllic rest, stilling the children’s throng,
Hushing the cricket on the hearth, and the lovers’ evening song?
VII.
1.
War! war! war!
Manning of forts on land and ships for sea;
Innumerous lips that speak the righteous wrath