MEN of my blood, you English men! From misty hill and misty fen, From cot, and town, and plough, and moor, Come in—before I shut the door! Into my courtyard paved with stones That keep the names, that keep the bones, Of none but English men who came Free of their lives, to guard my fame. I am your native land who bred No driven heart, no driven head; I fly a flag in every sea Round the old Earth, of Liberty! I am the Land that boasts a crown; The sun comes up, the sun goes down— And never men may say of me, Mine is a breed that is not free. I have a wreath! My forehead wears A hundred leaves—a hundred years I never knew the words: "You must!" And shall my wreath return to dust? Freemen! The door is yet ajar; From northern star to southern star, O ye who count and ye who delve, Come in—before my clock strikes twelve! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CATS' MONTH by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS A LILLIPUTIAN ODE ON THEIR MAJESTIES' ACCESSION by HENRY CAREY (1687-1743) THE FIGHTING RACE [FEBRUARY 16, 1898] by JOSEPH IGNATIUS CONSTANTINE CLARKE ELEGY: 19. TO HIS MISTRESS GOING TO BED by JOHN DONNE JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY (FROM A WESTERNER'S POINT OF VIEW) by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR WHERE GO THE BOATS? by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON BEAUREGARD by CATHERINE ANNE WARFIELD EMBLEMS OF LOVE: CUPID TO CHLOE WEEPING; A SONNET by PHILIP AYRES |