Hearken, the feet of the Destroyer tread The wine-press of the nations; fast the blood Pours from the side of Europe; in full flood On the Septentrional watershed The rivers of fair France are running red! England, the mother-eyrie of our brood, That on the summit of dominion stood, Shakes in the blast: heaven battles overhead! Lift up thy head, O Rheims, of ages heir That treasured up in thee their glorious sum; Upon whose brow, prophetically fair, Flamed the great morrow of the world to come; Haunt with thy beauty this volcanic air Ere yet thou close, O Flower of Christendom! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOT SIX DIFFERENCES by MARVIN BELL CHRISTMAS CAROL by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE AMERICAN FOREST GIRL by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS THE KLONDIKE by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON THE INCENSE BURNER by ABUS SALT THE LEADERS by LOUISE E. V. BOYD A LITTLE SONG by WILLIAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE |