BLOW ye the trumpet, gather from afar The hosts to battle: be not bought and sold. Arise, brave Poles, the boldest of the bold; Break through your iron shackles -- fling them far. O for those days of Piast, ere the Czar Grew to his strength among his deserts cold; When even to Moscow's cupolas were rolled The growing murmurs of the Polish war! Now must your noble anger blaze out more Than when from Sobieski, clan by clan, The Moslem myriads fell, and fled before -- Than when Zamoysky smote the Tartar Khan; Than earlier, when on the Baltic shore Boleslas drove the Pomeranian. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CITY VIGNETTE: RAIN AT NIGHT by SARA TEASDALE CHANGED by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE RELIEF OF LUCKNOW (SEPTEMBER 25, 1857) by ROBERT TRAILL SPENCE LOWELL THE WOOD OF FLOWERS by JAMES STEPHENS EPIGRAM: 18. THE ENEMY OF LIFE by THOMAS WYATT |