Lord Marmion viewed the landscape bright—
He viewed it with a chief’s delight—
Until within him burned his heart
And lightning from his eye did part,
As on the battle-day;
Such glance did falcon never dart,
When stooping on his prey.
“Oh! well, Lord Lion, hast thou said,
Thy king from warfare to dissuade
Were but a vain essay:
For, by Saint George, were that host mine,
Not power infernal, nor divine.
Should once to peace my soul incline,
Till I had dimmed their armour’s shine
In glorious battle-fray!”
Answered the bard, of milder mood—
“Fair is the sight—and yet ’twere good
That kings would think withal,
When peace and wealth their land has blessed,
’Tis better to sit still at rest,
Than rise, perchance to fall.”