TAKE these flowers which, purple waving, On the ruin'd rampart grew, Where, the sons of freedom braving, Rome's imperial standards flew. Warriors from the breach of danger Pluck no longer laurels there; They but yield the passing stranger Wild-flower wreaths for Beauty's hair. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BACON'S EPITAPH, MADE BY HIS MAN by JOHN COTTON (1640-1699) A COMPARISON by WILLIAM COWPER ANONYMOUS by JOHN BANISTER TABB A SONG OF LIFE by ABRAHAM IBN EZRA BACCHANALIA; OR, THE NEW AGE by MATTHEW ARNOLD |