It lies in a Brooklyn garret, A symbol of glory mislaid, The trumpet that sounded the order -- The Charge of the Light Brigade. The bugle of Balaklava -- The first of the orisons -- It holdeth the chant of the horses, The roar of the Russian guns. It lies in a Brooklyn garret In glorious truancy there. But fame needs no framework or easel, Not even a Trafalgar Square. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON MY FIRST DAUGHTER by BEN JONSON UNDER THE OAK by DAVID HERBERT LAWRENCE BLACK AND BLUE EYES by THOMAS MOORE THE ROSE (2) by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI TO A PRESIDENT by WALT WHITMAN A VOYAGE TO CYTHERA by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE THE TOY BALLOONS by EDNA BECKER |