OUR German Klopstock, if he had his will, Would bar us from the skirts of Pindus old. No more the classic laurel should be prized, But the rough leaflets of our native oak Alone should glisten in the poet's hair; Yet did himself, with spirit unreclaim'd From first allegiance to those early Gods, Lead up to Golgotha's most awful height With more than epic pomp the new Crusade. But let him range the bright angelic host On either hill -- no matter. By his grave All gentle hearts should bow them down and weep. For where a hero and a saint have died, Or where a poet sang prophetical, Dying as greatly as they greatly lived, To give memorial to all after times, Of lofty worth and courage undismay'd; There, in mute reverence, all devoutly kneel, In homage of the thorn and laurel wreath, That were at once their glory and their pang! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HYBRIDS OF WAR: A MORALITY POEM: 3. THAILALND by KAREN SWENSON EMPEDOCLES ON ETNA; A DRAMATIC POEM by MATTHEW ARNOLD HOME-THOUGHTS, FROM ABROAD by ROBERT BROWNING A DAY DREAM by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE THE IRISH RAPPAREES; A PEASANT BALLAD OF 1691 by CHARLES GAVAN DUFFY HYMNS OF THE MARSHES: THE MARSHES OF GLYNN by SIDNEY LANIER PIANO by DAVID HERBERT LAWRENCE |