6G HENRY KIKKE WHITE's POEMS. 



*' Ye powers of Hell, I am no coward, I proved this 

 of old : Who led your forces against the armies of 

 Jehovah? Who coped with Ithuriel, and the thunders of 

 the Almighty ? Who, when stunned and confused ye 

 lay on the burning lake, who first awoke, and collected 

 your scattered powers ? Lastly, who led you across the 

 unfathomable abyss to this delightful world, and estab- 

 lished that reign here which now totters to its base. 

 How, therefore, dares yon treacherous fiend to cast a stain 

 on Satan's bravery ? he who preys only on the defence- 

 less — who sucks the blood of infants, and delights only in 

 acts of ignoble cruelty and unequal contention. Away 

 with the boaster who never joins in action, but, lilce a 

 cormorant, hovers over the field, to feed upon the 

 wounded, and overwhelm the dying. True bravery is 

 as remote from rashness as from hesitation ; let us 

 counsel coolly, but let us execute our counselld purposes 

 determinately. In power we have learnt, by that experi- 

 ment which lost us Heaven, that we are inferior to the 

 Thunder-bearer. In subtlety — in subtlety alone we are 

 his equals. Oj)en war is impossible. 



i *' Thus we shall pierce our conqueror through the race 

 Which as himself he loves ; thus if we fall, 

 We fall not with the anguish, the disgrace 

 Of falling unrevenged. The stirring call 

 I Of vengeance rings within me ! Warriors all, 



The word is Vengeance, and the spur Despair. 



Awciy with coward wiles : — Death's coal-black pall 

 Be now our standard ! — Be our torch the glare 

 ! Of cities fired ! our fifes, the shrieks that fill the air !'* 



Him answering rose Mecasphim, who of old. 

 Far in the silence of Chaldea's groves, 



Was worshipped, God of Fire, with charms untold 

 And mystery. His wandering spirit roves, 

 Xow vainly searching for the flame it loves ; 



