Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE EFFIGIES, by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE EFFIGIES, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Warrior! Whose image on thy tomb
Last Line: In that lone path to heaven!
Alternate Author Name(s): Browne, Felicia Dorothea
Subject(s): War; Women


WARRIOR! whose image on thy tomb,
With shield and crested head,
Sleep soundly in the purple gloom
By the stained window shed;
The records of thy name and race
Have faded from the stone,
Yet, through a cloud of years, I trace
What thou hast been and done.

A banner, from its flashing spear,
Flung out o'er many a fight;
A war-cry ringing far and clear,
And strong to turn the flight;
An arm that bravely bore the lance
On for the holy shrine;
A haughty heart and a kingly glance --
Chief! were not these things thine?

A lofty place where leaders sate
Around the council board;
In festal halls a chair of state
When the blood-red wine was poured:
A name that drew a prouder tone
From herald, harp, and bard:
Surely these things were all thine own --
So hadst thou thy reward.

Woman! whose sculptured form at rest
By the armed knight is laid,
With meek hands folded o'er a breast
In matron robes arrayed;
What was thy tale? -- O gentle mate
Of him, the bold and free,
Bound unto his victorious fate,
What bard hath sung of thee?

He wooed a bright and burning star --
Thine was the void, the gloom,
The straining eye that followed far
His fast-receding plume;
The heart-sick listening while his steed
Sent echoes on the breeze;
The pang -- but when did Fame take heed
Of griefs obscure as these?

Thy silent and secluded hours
Through many a lonely day
While bending o'er thy broidered flowers,
With spirits far away;
Thy weeping midnight prayers for him
Who fought on Syrian plains,
Thy watchings till the torch grew dim --
These fill no minstrel strains.

A still, sad life was thine! -- long years
With tasks unguerdoned fraught --
Deep, quiet love, submissive tears,
Vigils of anxious thought;
Prayer at the cross in fervor poured,
Alms to the pilgrim given --
Oh! happy, happier than thy lord,
In that lone path to heaven!





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