THE Spring will come with its ebullient blood, With flush of roses and imperial eyes; A vein of strength will throb along the flood— Banners of beauty toss the pillared wood When birds of music anthem to the skies. And man prowls forth to mar thy gentle ways, With sword and shot and sacrilegious hand; Thy reign is fallen upon demon days, We peer at thee althrough a gory haze, Weeping and praying for our stricken land. O Land! O Land of the benignant South! The Great High Priest approaches to thy brow, Anointing it with ashes; let thy mouth Rebel not, nor thy heart be filled with drouth— The hand will raise thee up that smites thee now! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LITTLE BROTHER'S STORY by KATHERINE MANSFIELD THE SONG MAKER by SARA TEASDALE CHILDE ROLAND TO THE DARK TOWER CAME' by ROBERT BROWNING AN ODE TO THE FRAMERS OF THE FRAME BILL by GEORGE GORDON BYRON THE DORCHESTER GIANT by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES |