The battle hurtles on the plains-- Earth feels new scythes upon her: We reap our brothers for the wains, And call the harvest--honor. Draw face to face, front line to line, One image all inherit: Then kill, curse on, by that same sign, Clay, clay,--and spirit, spirit. Be pitiful, O God! We meet together at the feast-- To private mirth betake us-- We stare down in the winecup, lest Some vacant chair should shake us! We name delight, and pledge it round-- "It shall be ours to-morrow!" God's seraphs! do your voices sound As sad in naming sorrow? Be pitiful, O God! We sit together, with the skies, The steadfast skies, above us; We look into each other's eyes, "And how long will you love us?" The eyes grow dim with prophecy, The voices, low and breathless-- "Till death us part!"--O words, to be Our _best_ for love the deathless! Be pitiful, dear God! We tremble by the harmless bed Of one loved and departed-- Our tears drop on the lips that said Last night, "Be stronger-hearted!" O God,--to clasp those fingers close, And yet to feel so lonely!-- To see a light upon such brows, Which is the daylight only! Be pitiful, O God! The happy children come to us, And look up in our faces; They ask us--Was it thus, and thus, When we were in their places? We cannot speak--we see anew The hills we used to live in, And feel our mother's smile press through The kisses she is giving. Be pitiful, O God! We pray together at the kirk, For mercy, mercy, solely-- Hands weary with the evil work, We lift them to the Holy! The corpse is calm below our knee-- Its spirit bright before Thee-- Between them, worse than either, we Without the rest of glory! Be pitiful, O God! And soon all vision waxeth dull-- Men whisper, "He is dying;" We cry no more, "Be pitiful!"-- We have no strength for crying: No strength, no need! Then, Soul of mine, Look up and triumph rather-- Lo! in the depth of God's Divine, The Son adjures the Father-- BE PITIFUL, O GOD! ROMANCE OF THE SWAN'S NEST Little Ellie sits alone 'Mid the beeches of a meadow, By a stream-side on the grass; And the trees are showering down Doubles of their leaves in shadow, On her shining hair and face. She has thrown her bonnet by; And her feet she has been dipping In the shallow water's flow-- Now she holds them nakedly In her hands, all sleek and dripping, While she rocketh to and fro.