Once this soft turf, this rivulet ’s sands,
  Were trampled by a hurrying crowd,
And fiery hearts and armed hands
  Encountered in the battle-cloud.

Ah! never shall the land forget
  How gushed the life-blood of her brave—
Gushed, warm with hope...

Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord:
He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored;
He hath loosed the fateful lightning of his terrible swift sword:
    His truth is marching on.

I have seen Him in the watch-fires of a...

Silence and Solitude may hint
  (Whose home is in yon piny wood)
What I, though tableted, could never tell—
The din which here befell,
  And striving of the multitude.
The iron cones and spheres of death
  Set round me in their rust,—
    ...

Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord:
He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored;
He hath loosed the fateful lightning of his terrible swift sword:
      His truth is marching on.

I have seen him in the watch-fires of...

From “Paradise Lost,” Book VI.
THE ARRAY
                    NOW went forth the morn,
Such as in highest heaven, arrayed in gold
Empyreal; from before her vanished night,
Shot through with orient beams; when all the plain
Covered with thick embattled...

Poet: John Milton

From the Spanish by John Ormsby
From “The Cid”
THEN cried my Cid—“In charity, as to the rescue—ho!”
With bucklers braced before their breasts, with lances pointing low,
With stooping crests and heads bent down above the saddle-bow,
All firm of hand and high...

Poet: Anonymous

Anonymous translation from the German

FEAR not, O little flock! the foe
Who madly seeks your overthrow,
    Dread not his rage and power;
What though your courage sometimes faints?
His seeming triumph o’er God’s saints
    Lasts but a little hour...

[April 2, 1801]
OF Nelson and the north
  Sing the glorious day’s renown,
When to battle fierce came forth
  All the might of Denmark’s crown,
And her arms along the deep proudly shone;
  By each gun the lighted brand
  In a bold determined...

What, was it a dream? am I all alone
  In the dreary night and the drizzling rain?
Hist!—ah, it was only the river’s moan;
  They have left me behind with the mangled slain.

Yes, now I remember it all too well!
  We met, from the battling ranks apart;...

A Fragment
[May 1, 1898]
BY Cavité on the bay
’T was the Spanish squadron lay;
And the red dawn was creeping
O’er the city that lay sleeping
To the east, like a bride, in the May.
There was peace at Manila,
In the May morn at Manila...