The Zeppelin

Guns! far and near

Quick, sudden, angry,

They startle the still street,

Upturned faces appear,

Doors open on darkness,

There is a hurrying of feet,

And whirled athwart gloom

White fingers of alarm

Point at last there

Where illumined and dumb

A shape suspended

Hovers, a demon of the starry air!

Strange and cold as a dream

Of sinister fancy,

It charms like a snake,

Poised deadly in the gleam,

While bright explosions

Leap up to it and break.

Is it terror you seek

To exult in? Know then

Hearts are here

That the plunging beak

Of night-winged murder

Strikes not with fear

So much as it strings

To a deep elation

And a quivering pride

That at last the hour brings

For them too the danger

Of those who died,

Of those who yet fight

Spending for each of us

Their glorious blood

In the foreign night. —

That now we are neared to them

Thank we God.