THERE is peace in the swamp where the Copperhead sleeps, Where the waters are stagnant, the white vapor creeps, Where the musk of Magnolia hangs thick in the air, And the lilies' phylacteries broaden in prayer; There is peace in the swamp, though the quiet is Death, Though the mist is miasm, the Upas tree's breath, Though no echo awakes to the cooing of doves, -- There is peace: yes, the peace that the Copperhead loves! Go seek him: he coils in the ooze and the drip Like a thong idly flung from the slave-driver's whip; But beware the false footstep, -- the stumble that brings A deadlier lash than the overseer swings. Never arrow so true, never bullet so dread, As the straight steady stroke of that hammer-shaped head; Whether slave, or proud planter, who braves that dull crest, Woe to him who shall trouble the Copperhead's rest! Then why waste your labors, brave hearts and strong men, In tracking a trail to the Copperhead's den? Lay your axe to the cypress, hew open the shade To the free sky and sunshine Jehovah has made; Let the breeze of the North sweep the vapors away, Till the stagnant lake ripples, the freed waters play; And then to your heel can you righteously doom The Copperhead born of its shadow and gloom! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO AN EARLY DAFFODIL; SONNET by AMY LOWELL A BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 6. CORRINA by THOMAS CAMPION A THOUGHT by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES THE MESSAGES by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON THE TWO OLD BACHELORS by EDWARD LEAR |