Captain Sword forgot his own soul, Which of aught save itself, resented controul; Which whatever his deeds, ordained them still, Bodiless monarch, enthron'd in his will: He forgot the close thought, and the burning heart, And pray'rs, and the mild moon hanging apart, Which lifteth the seas with her gentle looks, And growth, and death, and immortal books, And the Infinite Mildness, the soul of souls, Which layeth earth soft 'twixt her silver poles; Which ruleth the stars, and saith not a word; Whose speed in the hair of no comet is heard; Which sendeth the soft sun, day by day, Mighty, and genial, and just alway, Owning no difference, doing no wrong, Loving the orbs and the least bird's song, The great, sweet, warm angel, with golden rod, Bright with the smile of the distance of God. Captain Sword, like a witless thing, Of all under heaven must needs be king, King of kings, and lord of lords, Swayer of souls as well as of swords, Ruler of speech, and through speech, of thought; And hence to his brain was a madness brought. He madden'd in East, he madden'd in West, Fiercer for sights of men's unrest, Fiercer for talk, amongst awful men, Of their new mighty leader, Captain Pen, A conqueror strange, who sat in his home Like the wizard that plagued the ships of Rome, Noiseless, show-less, dealing no death, But victories, winged, went forth from his breath. Three thousand miles across the waves[A] Did Captain Sword cry, bidding souls be slaves: Three thousand miles did the echo return With a laugh and a blow made his old cheeks burn. Then he call'd to a wrong-maddened people, and swore[B] Their name in the map should never be more: Dire came the laugh, and smote worse than before. Were earthquake a giant, up-thrusting his head And o'erlooking the nations, not worse were the dread. Then, lo! was a wonder, and sadness to see; For with that very people, their leader, stood he, Incarnate afresh, like a Caesar of old;[C] But because he look'd back, and his heart was cold, Time, hope, and himself for a tale he sold. Oh largest occasion, by man ever lost! Oh throne of the world, to the war-dogs tost!