Dora Sigerson Shorter

“ From the sobbing breath that a strong man drew—
When sudden there broke a fearful cry
That seemed to quiver across the sky,
A cry of some soul, it was to those
Who heard it, a soul in life's last throes,
A cold, passing breath from death's black wings,
A crash of discord o'er broken strings;
And what had been was now no more.
Silence and death seemed to cloud them o'er;
The past, the present, all men may see,
But no man knoweth what is to be.
Again they start with a new surprise,
No minstrel is there to their wildered eyes ”

“ Each heart gave words to the wondrous lay:
“The living present is ours to-day.”
And now they shudder and hold their breath;
The violon's song is the song of death—
Death in most cruel and dreadful guise—
The god of war rose before their eyes. ”

“ That sights his quarry from far on high,
For his heart beat quick with the lust for blood;
He fain would seek in that ruddy flood
To quench that fierce, unsatiable thirst
With which man and beast are alike accurst. ”