Classic Poem

Sometimes the City, like a woman, hides
Behind a veil, woven of silvery mist;
And sudden darkness plunges every street
In shadow and gloom. Then comes the purple rain,
Lightly at first, as if afraid to beat
Upon the web of roofs and battlements
That flaunt their challenge to the distant clouds.
A boom sounds in the Harbor. Jove's loud guns
And all the cavalry of heaven have charged
Upon the solid ramparts of the town.
Bright swords of steel flash in the blackened sky,
And God's great army marches to attack
The bastions standing firm, impregnable,
Strong in their granite beauty everywhere.

Like leaden bullets falls the stinging rain,
And crash on crash the thunder's cannonade
Rolls through the armored City in its might.
O loud the martial language of the storm
Cries out in fury, and the beating hail
Hurls down its fiery shells in awful wrath.
The grim artillery of the Lord of War
Fills with dismay the cowering citizens,
Hemmed in like flies who have no sure escape.

Now, now I love your strength, O City! Now
I see your Titan power! Not that you give
Back to the elements what they have given,
But that you bravely face the rough stampede,
And stand your ground, imperishable still!
Not like a rose you droop before the gale,
But like an armored Amazon defend
Your bulwarks, till the last faint shot is fired,
And the white moon and stars come, singing peace.

From heaven's high ramparts sweeping down
The blue battalions stormed the town;
Vast regiments, an endless train,
With slanting bayonets of rain.

With fusillade and open fire
They rushed on turret, dome and spire,
And loudly with a million hoofs
Their cavalry crossed groaning roofs.

Through dripping, tear-swept panes of glass,
I saw the mighty army pass
In silent file, with solemn tramp,
Back to its far, mysterious Camp.