But when, Calliope, thy loud harp rang -- In Epic grandeur rose the lofty strain; The clash of arms, the trumpet's awful clang Mixed with the roar of conflict on the plain; The ardent warrior bade his coursers wheel, Trampling in dust the feeble and the brave, Destruction flashed upon his glittering steel, While round his brow encrimsoned laurels waved, And o'er him shrilly shrieked the demon of the grave. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GOD by GABRIEL ROMANOVITCH DERZHAVIN PROMETHEUS by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL TASTING THE EARTH by JAMES OPPENHEIM IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 96 by ALFRED TENNYSON TRANSFIGURATION by LOUISA MAY ALCOTT THE METEMPSYCHOSIS by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH WINTER WIZARDRY by LAURA S. BECK AFTER-SIGHT by WILLIAM ROSE BENET THE FORCED RECRUIT AT SOLFERINO by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING |