To deities of gauds and gold, Land of our Fathers, do not bow! But unto those beloved of old Bend thou the brow! Austere they were of front and form; Rigid as iron in their aim; Yet in them pulsed a blood as warm And pure as flame; -- Honor, whose foster-child is Truth; Unselfishness in place and plan; Justice, with melting heart of ruth; And Faith in man. Give these our worship; then no fears Of future foes need fright thy soul; Triumphant thou shalt mount the years Toward thy high goal! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LOVE AT SEA by THEOPHILE GAUTIER WINTRY WEATHER by DAVID GRAY (1838-1861) THE CITY OF GOD by SAMUEL JOHNSON (1822-1882) THE ROSY BOSOM'D HOURS by COVENTRY KERSEY DIGHTON PATMORE ADMONITION [TO A TRAVELLER] by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH BY THE SALPETRIERE by THOMAS ASHE |