Vanish, every idle thought! Perish, last of Folly's ways! All that pride of eye hath sought, All that rebel flesh hath wrought, Utterly reduced to naught, How can ye outlive these days? Henceforth be it never said Ye with us still lingered on When an ocean dyed bloodred Bade you finally be gone— Hence for aye from heart and head, Hence from house and board and bed, Stript and disinherited, Be ye no more thought upon! Since that drenching stormclap drave To the ground your petty dust, And the wasteful roving wave Whelmed our foremost man of trust, In its dark ungardened grave Lost, with those five thousand brave Who their island home to save Took all odds, because they must. Vanish, every puny thought! Perish, last of Frailty's ways! Ne'er a nobler fight was fought, Ne'er a truer spirit wrought: Though the seas with death be fraught, Giant hearts shall rule these days. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VISION OF BELSHAZZAR by GEORGE GORDON BYRON A THOUGHT by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES TO THE MEMORY OF THOMAS HOOD by BARTHOLOMEW SIMMONS THE BALLAD OF BOUILLABAISSE by WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY IN THE BELFRY OF THE NIEUWE KERK by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH |