STR. 5

O that these my days had been

Ere white peace and shame were wed

Without torch or dancers’ din

Round the unsacred marriage-bed!

For of old the sweet-tongued law,

Freedom, clothed with all men's love,

Girt about with all men's awe,

With the wild war-eagle mated

The white breast of peace the dove,

And his ravenous heart abated

And his windy wings were furled

In an eyrie consecrated

Where the snakes of strife uncurled,

And her soul was soothed and sated

With the welfare of the world.