I SEE them on their winding way, Above their ranks the moon-beams play, And nearer yet, and yet more near, The martial chorus strikes the ear. They're lost and gone, -- the moon is past, The wood's dark shade is o'er them cast, And fainter, fainter, fainter still, The dim march warbles up the hill. Again, again, -- the pealing drum, The clashing horn -- they come! they come! And lofty deeds and daring high, Blend with their notes of victory. Forth, forth, and meet them on their way, The trampling hoof brooks no delay; The thrilling fife, the pealing drum, How late -- but oh, how loved they come! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CANZONET: TO HIS COY LOVE by MICHAEL DRAYTON THE DREAMER by SHAEMAS O'SHEEL LUKE HAVERGAL by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON AGAMEMNON: THE SACRIFICE OF IPHIGENIA. CHORUS by AESCHYLUS THE COWARD by LAWRENCE ALMA-TADEMA |