Sonnet I
Hold your mad hands! for ever on your plain Must the gorged vulture clog his beak with blood? For ever must your Nigers tainted flood Roll to the ravenous shark his banquet slain? Hold your mad hands! what daemon prompts to rear The arm of Slaughter? on your savage shore Can hell-sprung Glory claim the feast of gore, With laurels water'd by the widow's tear Wreathing his helmet crown? lift high the spear! And like the desolating whirlwinds sweep, Plunge ye yon bark of anguish in the deep; For the pale fiend, cold-hearted Commerce there Breathes his gold-gender'd pestilence afar, And calls to share the prey his kindred Daemon War.
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"Hold your mad hands! for ever on your plain..."
This evocative piece by Robert Southey, titled "Sonnet I", represents a masterful exploration of classic. The lines capture a profound emotional resonance... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...