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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=343061" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Lines Written At Norwich On The First News Of Peace</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">What means that wild and joyful cry? <br>Why do yon crowds in mean attire <br>Throw thus their ragged arms on high? <br>In want what can such joy inspire?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And why on every face I meet <br>Now beams a smile, now drops a tear? <br>Like longloved friends, lo! strangers greet, . . . .<br>Each to his fellow man seems dear.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In one warm glow of christian love<br>Forgot all proud distinctions seem;<br>The rich, the poor, together rove;<br>Their eyes with answering kindness beam . . . .</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Blest sound! blest sight! . . . . But pray ye pause <br>And bid my eager wonder cease; <br>Of joy like this, say, what's the cause?. . . .<br>A thousand voices answer . . . . 'PEACE!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O sound most welcome to my heart! <br>Tidings for which I've sighed for years! <br>But ill would words my joy impart; <br>Let me my rapture speak in tears.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ye patient poor, from wonder free <br>Your signs of joy I now survey, <br>And hope your sallow cheeks to see <br>Once more the bloom of health display.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Of those poor babes that on your knees <br>Imploring food have vainly hung, <br>You'll soon each craving want appease, . . . .<br>For Plenty comes with Peace along.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And you, fond parents, faithful wives, <br>Who've long for sons and husbands feared, <br>Peace now shall save their precious lives; <br>They come by danger more endeared.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But why, to all these transports dead,<br>Steals yon shrunk form from forth the throng?<br>Has she not heard the tidings spread?<br>Tell her these shouts to Peace belong . . . .</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Talk not of Peace, . . . . the sound I hate,'<br>The mourner with a sigh replied;<br>'Alas! Peace comes for me too late, . . . .<br>For my brave boy in Egypt died!' </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Poor mourner! at thy tale of grief<br>The crowd was mute and sad awhile;<br>But e'en compassion's tears are brief<br>When general transport claims a smile.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Full soon they checked the tender sigh<br>Their glowing hearts to pity gave;<br>But, while the mourner yet was nigh,<br>They warmly blessed the slaughtered brave: . . . .</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And from all hearts, as sad she passed,<br>This virtuous prayer her sorrow draws: . . . .<br>'Grant, Heaven, those tears may be the last<br>That war, detested war, shall cause! . . . .</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh! if with pure ambition fraught<br>All nations join this virtuous prayer,<br>If they, by late experience taught,<br>No longer wish to slay, but spare, . . . .</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then hostile bands on War's red plain <br>For conquest have not vainly burned, <br>Nor then through long long years in vain <br>Have thousands died and millions mourned.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Amelia+Opie">Amelia Opie</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=343061" data-title="Lines Written At Norwich On The First News Of Peace de Amelia Opie" data-description="What means that wild and joyful cry? 
Why do yon crowds in mean attire 
Throw thus their ragged arms on high? 
In want what can such joy inspire?

And why on every face I meet 
Now beams a smile, now drops a tear? 
Like longloved friends, lo! stra..."></div>
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