We feel the rush of wind, triumphant, swift, That brought thee from the heaven's unconquered height; We feel the strong air blow, and watch it lift The curling robe in thy exultant flight. Swift was thy cleaving of the startled air, Sure was thy treading of the burning suns, And glorious rang the message thou didst bear Of triumph, gift from heaven's unconquered ones. What though we may not gaze upon thy face, Nor read in thy glad eyes the victory? Thine is the sweep of heavenly winds; though space And time a little dust about thee lie. A dim eternity that wind has blown, And claims immortal victory for thine own. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE RIVER OF LIFE by THOMAS CAMPBELL POCAHONTAS by GEORGE POPE MORRIS ODE IN MEMORY OF THE AMERICAN VOLUNTEERS FALLEN FOR FRANCE by ALAN SEEGER THE ACHARNIANS: A PLEA FOR THE ENEMY by ARISTOPHANES COMPLAINS OF THE COURT by PHILIP AYRES GOD'S ACRE by CHARLOTTE LOUISE BERTLESEN REVOLUTION by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON BLEUE MAISON by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS: BOOK 2. THE THIRD SONG by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) |