THE TRIUMPHS OF WAR.
"No blood-stained victory, in story bright.
Can give the philosophic mind delight—
No triumph please; while rage and death destroy,
Reflection sickens at the monstrous joy."—Bloomfield.
Can give the philosophic mind delight—
No triumph please; while rage and death destroy,
Reflection sickens at the monstrous joy."—Bloomfield.
Proud was the chariot that bore the bold warrior
Swift were the steeds that sped him along;
Wild were the strains of deep martial music
That broke from their ranks in the soul of their song.
Swift were the steeds that sped him along;
Wild were the strains of deep martial music
That broke from their ranks in the soul of their song.
Bound was the brow of the victor with glory;
Bright, as the laurels the proud Roman wore,
Glittered his helmet,—beneath the broad sunlight
Floated his banner in triumph before.
Bright, as the laurels the proud Roman wore,
Glittered his helmet,—beneath the broad sunlight
Floated his banner in triumph before.
