COME, ye that despair of the land Which the Future shall know -- Who doubt what the years that expand In their fulness must show -- Who grasp not the thing which shall be When deliverance comes To millions in bondage -- and see, At the verge of the slums, These foreign-born children that march In their hundreds and more In sunshine and storm, through the arch Of the library door! Their race? Ah, what matters their race To our generous Mold Of Nations! Yet, if ye would trace All the record unrolled, Take heart from the days that are dead: For the fathers of these With Lief or with Eric the Red Braved mysterious seas, Or followed Yermak through the snows Of a boreal dome, Or gave to the eagles the foes Of Imperial Rome; Or tented with David, or ranked In the Balkans those swords That bulwarked all Europe, unthanked, From the Ottoman hordes. Aye, old at the time of the Flood, Still the law is the same; The Builder shall spring from the blood Whence the Warrior came. They trail through the alley and mart To this Palace of Tomes -- Wee urchins, red-hatted and swart As their underworld gnomes, And hundreds of quaint little maids Wearing ribands of green Or scarlet on duplicate braids, Quick-eyed, orderly, clean, And silent. Some take from the shelves Of the volumes arow Those legends of goblins and elves That we loved long ago; Yet more choose the stories of men Whom a nation reveres -- Of Lincoln and Washington, then Of the bold pioneers Who plowed in a blood-sprinkled sod, Whose strong hands caused to rise That Temple which these, under God, Yet shall rear to the skies! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE HUMAN ABSTRACT, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE THE MOON by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES A WOMAN'S SONNETS: 3 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE REGULAR STORY by BERTON BRALEY MRS. STUART'S RETIREMENT by HENRY CAREY (1687-1743) |