Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900.
By Stephen HenryThayer751 Europa
G
Whose sceptre shall forever be
The reign supreme of Liberty,
Draw thou the veil that dims our sight, light thou our eyes,
That we may see!
Six giant legions ominous rest,
Equipped and armed from sole to crest;
The burdened nations groan and reel and listen for
The dread behest.
Is bonded; there the navies ride
And train their armaments to bide
The menace from the eagle’s north, or who will dare
The kings allied.
The will of other crowns; his fate
Is graven in the hearts that hate
And tremble at his wasting power—the curse of men—
So weak, so great.
His Orient Empire palsied lies,
And still and still he crucifies
The last bare hope that yet might save, and mocks his knell,
And still defies.
The northern Cæsar keeps his vow,
And waits and wills both where and how
His sheathless sword shall smite at last; he waits and knits
His iron brow.
The Adriatic’s waters glare,
Or by the Danube; and they swear
Eternal vigilance against the Cossack hordes
So sleepless there.
Who guards the German state, in scorn
Watches the French frontier,—his thorn;
Looks north to the Crimean gates, and eastward to
The Golden Horn.
Imperial armies, still compels,
From Britain to the Dardanelles,
Fresh millions to her warrior camps, and millions more,
For ships and shells.
The greatest products she can yield
Are armëd men and sword and shield:
Whole nations bent and strung for what? O Lord, thy thought
Is still concealed!
Whose sceptre shall forever be
The reign supreme of Liberty,
Draw thou the veil that dims our sight, light thou our eyes,
That we may see!
C