Page:Poet Lore, volume 34, 1923.djvu/312

Silent and peaceful comes the troop,
On through the peaceful, silent night.
Nowhere a whisper; no one speaks;
Nowhere a song; and no one smiles;
Out of a hundred voices there,
Never one voice is heard.

But as the cloud that carries hail
Can hide fierce darts within its breast,
And falling mutter direful threats
Of ill to all whom it may strike,
So now this troop, concealed by night,.
And hid as by the hand of God,
Darts here and there to take revenge.
The lightning has no plotted path;
Nor may one know if its next stroke
May bring the heaviest bolt of all.

Quiet they go.
The flashing steel has lost its ring;
The hollow guns emit no roar;
The soldiers' trappings give no sound,
But shoes know well they bear brave feet,.
And silent tread the hard, rough ground,
And climb the rugged mountain slopes.
Arm touches arm; close joined they go;
And friend is true to friend. Twin stars
That guard the sky when evening comes.
Are not more true than they.
They passed beyond Komleyanah,
And Zagaratch, and Bjel'pablatch,
And came to Lovtchen's rugged peaks;
And passing Lovtchen in the night,
Drew near Moratcha's famous stream:
Just when the dawn began to break.

The land is called Moratcha Land;
And on the cool Moratcha's banks
The brave troop spends the day in rest.
Some sleep upon the dewy grass;
Some mind their guns and count their shot,
Or whet the blades of trusty knives;