A Utilitarian View Of The Monitor's Fight

Plain be the phrase, yet apt the verse,

  More ponderous than nimble;

For since grimed War here laid aside

His painted pomp, 'twould ill befit

    Overmuch to ply

  The rhyme's barbaric symbol.

Hail to victory without the gaud

  Of glory; zeal that needs no fans

Of banners; plain mechanic power

Plied cogently in War now placed —

    Where War belongs —

  Among the trades and artisans.

Yet this was battle, and intense —

  Beyond the strife of fleets heroic;

Deadlier, closer, calm 'mid storm;

No passion; all went on by crank.

    Pivot, and screw,

  And calculations of caloric.

Needless to dwell; the story's known.

  The ringing of those plates on plates

Still ringeth round the world —

The clangor of the blacksmiths' fray.

    The anvil-din

  Resounds this message from the Fates:

War shall yet be, and to the end;

  But war-paint shows the streaks of weather;

War yet shall be, but the warriors

Are now but operatives; War's made

    Less grand than Peace,

  And a singe runs through lace and feather.