The Soldier
He was not armed like those of eastern clime,
Whose heavy axes felled their heathen foe;
Nor was he clad like those of later time,
Whose breast-worn cross betrayed no cross below;
Nor was he of the tribe of Levi born,
Whose pompous rites proclaim how vain their prayer;
Whose chilling words are heard at night and morn,
Who rend their robes but still their hearts would spare;
But he nor steel nor sacred robe had on,
Yet went he forth in God's almighty power;
He spoke the word whose will is ever done
From day's first dawn till earth's remotest hour;
And mountains melted from his presence down,
And hell affrighted fled before his frown.
The War
I saw a war, yet none the trumpet blew,
Nor in their hands the steel-wrought weapons bare;
And in that conflict armed there fought but few,
And none that in the world's loud tumults share;
They fought against their wills,—the stubborn foe
That mail-clad warriors left unfought within,
And wordy champions left unslain below,—
The ravening wolf though drest in fleecy skin;—
They fought for peace,—not that the world can give,
Whose tongue proclaims the war its hands have ceased
And bids us as each other's neighbor live,
Ere haughty Self within us has deceased;
They fought for him whose kingdom must increase,
Good will to men, on earth forever peace.
