The Deformed Transformed by Lord Byron, Ernest Hartley Coleridge
Part III
The wars are over, The spring is come; The bride and her lover Have sought their home: They are happy, we rejoice; Let their hearts have an echo in every voice!
The spring is come; the violet's gone, The first-born child of the early sun: With us she is but a winter's flower, The snow on the hills cannot blast her bower, And she lifts up her dewy eye of blue To the youngest sky of the self-same hue.
And when the spring comes with her host Of flowers, that flower beloved the most Shrinks from the crowd that may confuse Her heavenly odour and virgin hues.
Pluck the others, but still remember Their herald out of dim December— The morning star of all the flowers, The pledge of daylight's lengthened hours; Nor, midst the roses, e'er forget The virgin—virgin Violet.
The wars are all over, Our swords are all idle, The steed bites the bridle, The casque's on the wall. There's rest for the rover; But his armour is rusty, And the veteran grows crusty, As he yawns in the hall. He drinks—but what's drinking? A mere pause from thinking! No bugle awakes him with life-and-death call.
But the hound bayeth loudly, The boar's in the wood, And the falcon longs proudly To spring from her hood: On the wrist of the noble She sits like a crest, And the air is in trouble With birds from their nest.
Cæs. Oh! shadow of Glory! Dim image of War! But the chase hath no story, Her hero no star, Since Nimrod, the founder Of empire and chase, Who made the woods wonder And quake for their race. When the lion was young, In the pride of his might, Then 'twas sport for the strong To embrace him in fight; To go forth, with a pine For a spear, 'gainst the mammoth, Or strike through the ravine At the foaming behemoth; While man was in stature As towers in our time, The first born of Nature, And, like her, sublime!
But the wars are over, The spring is come; The bride and her lover Have sought their home: They are happy, and we rejoice; Let their hearts have an echo from every voice! [Exeunt the Peasantry, singing.
Next: Fragment of the Third Part of the Deformed Transformed