⁠Of generous boys in happiness thus bred—
⁠Saturnians through life's Tempe led,
Went from the North and came from the South,
With golden mottoes in the mouth,
⁠To lie down midway on a bloody bed.

Woe for the homes of the North,
And woe for the seats of the South;
All who felt life's spring in prime,
And were swept by the wind of their place and time—
⁠All lavish hearts, on whichever side,
Of birth urbane or courage high,
Armed them for the stirring wars—
Armed them—some to die.
⁠Apollo-like in pride,
Each would slay his Python—caught
The maxims in his temple taught—
⁠Aflame with sympathies whose blaze
Perforce enwrapped him—social laws,
⁠Friendship and kin, and by-gone days—
Vows, kisses—every heart unmoors,
And launches into the seas of wars.
What could they else—North or South?