Select Poetry.

Hawke's Bay Times, Volume 15, Issue 644, 4 January 1869, Page 3

Select Poetry.

PEACE HATH HER VICTORIES. [This poem will toe of interest to our readers, as being the composition of the martyr, Thomas D'Arcy M'Gee.] fJTO people wastes, to supplement the arm, Vii* To plant the olive where the wild brior grew, To bid rash rivers in safe channels run, The youth of aged cities to renew; To shut the temple of the two-faced godGrand triumphs these, worthy a conqueror's car, They need no herald's horn, no lictor's rod — Peace hath her victories, no less than War. To raise the drooping artist's head, to breathe ! Tho word despairing genius thirsts to hear, To crown all service with its earngd wreath, To bo of lawless force the foe austere; This is to stretch a sceptre over time, This is to give our darkling earth a star, And belt it with the emerald scroll sublimePeace hath her victories, no less than War. To stand amidst the passions of the hour, [shore; Storm-lash'd, resounding fierce from shore to To watch tho human whirlwind waste its power, Till drownCd tteason lifts her head onoe more; To build on hatred nothing; to be just, Judging of men and nations as they ai*e— Too strong to share the counsels of mistrust— Peace huth her victories, no less than War. To draw tho nptions in a silken bond — Or to their highest exorcise of good; To show the better land, above, beyond Tbo sea of Egypt, all whose waves are blood; These, leader of the age, these arts be thine, All vulgar victories surpassing far; On these all Heaven's benignant planets shinePeace hath her victories, no les3 than War. —The Broadway.