In the proud old fanes of England My warrior fathers lie, Banners hang drooping o'er their dust With gorgeous blazonry. But thou, but @3thou@1, my brother! O'er thee dark billows sweep -- The best and bravest heart of all Is shrouded by the deep. In the old high wars of England My noble fathers bled; For her lion-kings of lance and spear, They went down to the dead. But thou, but thou, my brother! @3Thy@1 life-drops flowed for me -- Would I were with thee in thy rest, Young sleeper of the sea! In a sheltered home of England Our sister dwells alone; With quick heart listening for the sound Of footsteps that are gone. She little dreams, my brother! Of the wild fate we have found; I, 'midst the Afric sands a slave, Thou, by the dark seas bound. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A CHILD'S THOUGHT OF GOD by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE ARGONAUTS (ARGONATUICA): MEDEA'S PARTING WORDS by APOLLONIUS RHODIUS THE FIRST FIRE by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD TWO HELPERS by MARY RUSSELL BARTLETT PHILEMON by MATILDA BARBARA BETHAM-EDWARDS |