The Rape of Issus

Out of the breathless night
Creeps reluctant Dawn;
A sickly ray of light
Glimmers, and is gone.

No scurrying creature slight
From its nest has stirred;
No bird is seen in flight;
No sound is heard.

Ten thousand ranks of men,
Gaunt, unmoving, stand;
A spectral blade is seen
In each bloodless hand.

The gloom begins to wane;
A cloak of silence falls
Over the ghastly scene;
Destiny calls:

A figure rises tall;
The battle-cry is hurled;
The hordes begin to fall,
That shook the world!

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