The power of Armies is a visible thing, <br />Formal, and circumscribed in time and space; <br />But who the limits of that power shall trace <br />Which a brave People into light can bring <br />Or hide, at will,--for freedom combating <br />By just revenge inflamed? No foot may chase, <br />No eye can follow, to a fatal place <br />That power, that spirit, whether on the wing <br />Like the strong wind, or sleeping like the wind <br />Within its awful caves.--From year to year <br />Springs this indigenous produce far and near; <br />No craft this subtle element can bind, <br />Rising like water from the soil, to find <br />In every nook a lip that it may cheer.<br /><br />William Wordsworth<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-power-of-armies-is-a-visible-thing/
