Is this a time to dance?
‘ The breath of evening sweeps the plain,And spectrum in the debt,
But on its wings are sounds of pain,
Sad tones that drown the ache's swell,
And yet we hear a mirthful call,
Far pleasure smiles with beaming glance,
Gay me in sounds in the joyous hall--
Oh, God! is this a time to dance?
Sad notes, as if a spirit sighed,
Float from the crimson battle plain,
As if a mighty spirit cried
In awful agony and pain.
Our friends we know there suffering lay.
Our brothers too, perchance,
And in reposeful accents say,
Loved ones, is this a time to dance?
Oh, lift your festal robes on high!
The human gave that flows around
Will stain their lure with crimson dye,
And yet your mus'd sound.
To drown the dying warrior's cry,
Let sparkling wine your joy enhance--
Forge, at blood has tinged its dye,
And quicker urge the mantle's dance!
But stop! the floor beneath your feet
Gives back hollow moan,
And every strain of juice sweet
forth soldier's groan.
Oh, sisters who have brothers dear
Expired to every battle's chance,
Bring cask remorse no forms of fear
To fright you from the heartless dance?
Go, fling your festal robes away!
Golden the mourner's table veil!
Go, bow before your God and pray,
If yet your prayers may gh avail.
Go, face the fearful form of death,
And, trembling meet his glance,
And then, for once with truthful breath,
Answer--In this is a time to dance?
’
