Page:Thirty poems (IA thirtypoems00bryarich).pdf/68

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POEMS.
And chieftains to the war shall leadWhole nations, with the tempest's speed,  To perish in a day;—Till man, by love and mercy taughtShall rue the wreck his fury wrought,  And lay the sword away.Oh strew, with pausing, shuddering hand,The seed upon the helpless land,As if, at every stop, ye castThe pelting hail and riving blast.IV.Nay, strew, with free and joyous sweep, The seed upon the expecting soil;For hence the plenteous year shall heap The garners of the men who toil.Strew the bright seed for those who tearThe matted sward with spade and share,And those whose sounding axes gleam.Beside the lonely forest stream,  Till its broad banks lie bare;
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