Page 216 - The model orator, or, Young folks' speaker : containing the choicest recitations and readings from the best authors for schools, public entertainments, social gatherings, Sunday schools, etc. : including recitals in prose and verse ...
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Wide sounding1  leagues  of sentient steel,  and  fires  that  lived to kill.
                            Were  but the  echo  of his voice,  the  body  of Ins  will.


                            But now  iny heart  is  darkened with  the  shadows that  rise and fall
                            Between  the sunlight  and  the  ground to  sadden  and  appa.lL
                            The  woeful  things  both  seen  and  done  we  heeded  little  then,
                            But  they  return,  like  ghosts,  to shake the sleep  of aged  men.

                                                                                                      t
                            The  German  and the  Englishman  were  each  an  open  Ibe,
                            An  open  haired  hurled  us back  from  "Russ la's  blinding snow;
                            In tenser far,  in  blood-roc!  light,  like fire:-;  imquenched,  remain
                            The  dreadful  deeds wrung forth by  war from the brooding soul of Spain,

                            I  saw  a village  in  the  hills,  as  silent as  a  dream,
                            Naught stirring but the  summer sound  of a  merry  mountain  stream ;
                            The  evening  star just smiled  from  heaven  with  its  quiet silver eve,
                            And  the  chestnut  woods  were  still and calm beneath the deepening  iky.

                            But  in  that  place,  self-sacrificed,  nor  man  nor  beast  we found,
                            Nor fig-tree  on the sun-touched  slope,  nor  corn  upon  the  ground ;
                            Each roofless hut was black with  smoke, wrenched  up each trailing vine,
                            Each  path  was foul with  mangled  meat  and  floods  of wasted wine.

                            We  had  been  marching,  travel-worn,  a  long and  burning way,
                            And  when  such welcoming we  met,  after that toilsome  day,
                            The  pulses  in  our  maddened breasts  were  human  hearts  no  more,
                            But,  like the  spirit  of a wolf  hot  on  the scent  of gore.

                             We  lighted  on  ore  dying man,  they  slew  him  where  he  lay;
                             II is  wife,  close-clinging,  front  the  corpse they tore and wrenched away;
                            They  thundered  in  her widowed  ears,  with  frowns  and  curses grim,
                            “ Food,  woman— food  and  wine,  or else  wo tear thee  limb  from  limb,"

                            The  woman,  shaking  off his  blood,  rose,  raven-haired  and  tall,
                            And  our stern  glances  quailed  before one sterner far than  all.
                            "Both food  and  wine,"  she  said,  " T  have;  I  meant them for the  dead,
                             Rut yt arc  living still,  and so  let them be yours  instead.”
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