I. TELL. -- You have no fears, My native land! Then dry your tears, And draw your brand. A million made a vow To free you. -- Wherefore, now, Tears again, my native land? II. GENIUS. -- I weep not from doubt, I weep not for dread; There's strength in your shout, And trust in your tread. I weep, for I look for the coming dead, Who for Liberty's cause shall die; And I hear a wail from the widow's bed Come mixed with our triumph-cry. Though dire my woes, yet how can I Be calm when I know such suffering's nigh? III. TELL. -- Death comes to all, My native land! Weep not their fall -- A glorious band! Famine and slavery Slaughter more cruelly Than Battle's blood-covered hand! IV. GENIUS. -- Yes, and all glory Shall honour their grave, With shrine, song, and story, Denied to the slave. Thus pride shall so mingle with sorrow, Their wives half their weeping will stay; And their sons long to tempt on the morrow The death they encounter to-day. Then away, sons, to battle away! Draw the sword, lift the flag, and away! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON THE RESURRECTION OF CHRIST by WILLIAM DUNBAR THE DOUBLE-HEADED SNAKE OF NEWBURY by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER A GULL GOES UP by LEONIE ADAMS PETITION (2) by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE WOOD MAGIC by FRANCES HALLEY BROCKETT ABER STATIONS: STATIO SECUNDA by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN FERISHTAH'S FANCIES by ROBERT BROWNING |