FLUNG to the heedless winds, Or on the waters cast, The martyrs' ashes, watched, Shall gathered be at last; And from that scattered dust, Around us and abroad, Shall spring a plenteous seed Of witnesses for God. The Father hath received Their latest living breath; And vain is Satan's boast Of victors in their death; Still, still, though dead, they speak, And, trumpet-tongued, proclaim To many a wakening land The one availing name. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FUN HOUSE FABLE by KAREN SWENSON ODE TO BEAUTY by RALPH WALDO EMERSON THE BELLS OF LONDON by MOTHER GOOSE THE BALLAD OF CHICKAMAUGA [SEPTEMBER 19-20, 1863] by JAMES MAURICE THOMPSON THE PROCLAMATION by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER LEISTON ABBEY by BERNARD BARTON |