A HOME-COMING

By James Henry Cousins

What flags are these?... what trumpets?... Oh! what drums?

What pride august?... what solemn minstrelsy?

Hush! drums, ecstatic drums: say who is she

That in the midst majestically comes.

Is she some queen whose haughty eye benumbs

Proud potentates; whose word can lift the sea

Of shattering war, and fling red misery

Across the world?... Speak, drums! Oh! aching drums!

Hush! hush! wild drums, drums in my happy heart!

Not thus she comes, my life's exalted queen,

But in sweet silence far outlauding praise.

Her's not the flaming sword that puts apart,

But Right's resistless blade, whose stroke unseen

Wounds but to heal, and crown with Freedom's bays!