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!