The Zeppelin

    GUNS! far and near
    Quick, sudden, angry,
    They startle the still street,
    Upturned faces appear,
    Doors open on darkness,
    There is a hurrying of feet,

    And whirled athwart gloom
    White fingers of alarm
    Point at last there
    Where illumined and dumb
    A shape suspended
    Hovers, a demon of the starry air!

    Strange and cold as a dream
    Of sinister fancy,
    It charms like a snake,
    Poised deadly in the gleam,
    While bright explosions
    Leap up to it and break.

    Is it terror you seek
    To exult in? Know then
    Hearts are here
    That the plunging beak
    Of night-winged murder
    Strikes not with fear

    So much as it strings
    To a deep elation
    And a quivering pride
    That at last the hour brings
    For them too the danger
    Of those who died,

    Of those who yet fight
    Spending for each of us
    Their glorious blood
    In the foreign night. --
    That now we are neared to them
    Thank we God.

        Laurence Binyon