Charles Tennyson Turner

Arms Old and New

How changed our warfare and the arms we wield!
The Phalanx, once the Macedonian's pride,
Has fled disheartened from the battle-field,
Since Flamininus pierced its wounded side:
Gone is the Roman Legion's tramp and clang:
The Ram assaults not now the leaguered wall;
Our English Bowman is beyond recall--
The Rifle cracks where late the arrow sang!
The Trumpet lingers yet beyond them all,
But to its voice no mail-clad warrior hies,
Not lifts a shield against the cannon-ball;
High up the Shrapnel holds its burning breath;
Within our bays the grim Torpedo lies,--
We arm the depths above us and beneath!