I WATCH a ball by rampant feet Tossed wildly to and fro, The mad advance, the grim retreat, The frenzied ebb and flow. I hear the loud huzzas that greet Heroic friend or foe. And lo! the field becomes the World; High Heaven my vantage ground; The ball thus bandied, carried, hurled, A soul mid earthly round; The sides against each other hurled With shame or honour crowned, Embattled angels, these of Light And those of gloom, full strong, This side, to near the goal of Right, That side, the goal of Wrong. While clustering near to view the fight Are ranged a spirit throng. God! how they strive and strain and press Who the weak mortal claim, Now grasped by Evil's utmost stress -- Heaven mar its force and aim! Now at the feet of those who bless -- Christ speed them to the game! Cheer them, pure Spirits! Like the sun Flash out in glory blaze! Joy! Time is over, they have won! Their charge they hold and raise! While echoing plaudits, now begun, Shall chime eternal Praise. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS TRAIN by HAYDEN CARRUTH TO THE ROCK THAT WILL BE A CORNERSTONE OF THE HOUSE by ROBINSON JEFFERS THE HARD TIMES IN ELFLAND; A STORY OF CHRISTMAS EVE by SIDNEY LANIER SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: AMI GREEN by EDGAR LEE MASTERS ON A LADY SINGING by ISAAC ROSENBERG FROM THE GREATER TESTAMENT (XXII, XXIII, AND XXVI) by FRANCOIS VILLON |