Spring up enforced, and spur to follow thee!
II.
To war? What words are mine, that do thee wrong!
Whose suit is powerful Peace, resplendent-shod,
Fair on the mountains; who wouldst set the rod
Borne as a staff o’er stony ways and long
Yet withered not, to strike new root and strong
Deep in its nursing earth. Oh, there the clod
Were virtue, and the sun the smile of God,
And buds should break to bloom, as maids to song!