At War

Through the large, stormy splendors of the night,
When clouds made war, and spears of moonlight strove
To penetrate their serried ranks and prove
That braver than the darkness was the light,
Yet failed before the storm-clouds' gathered might,
I heard a voice cry, "Strong indeed is Love,
But stronger Fate and Death, who hold above
Their pitiless, high court, in Love's despite."

Storm-cloud met storm-cloud, reeled, and shook, and fled,—
The old earth trembled at their mighty rage,—
Till, suddenly, a lark sang clear o'erhead,
As if to share his joy he did engage
All earth and heaven; and Night's wild war was done,
And Love and Morning triumphed with the sun.