How easily the breath of God o'erwhelms The nations that presume to live for gain! And clogs the motion of imperial realms, As our poor breath the fly upon the pane: Though our deep-laden argosies rejoice From port to port to drag the seething sea Across the world, how helpless we may be In one brief year, despite our trade and noise! Too oft, when, burthen'd with our chests and bales, From the four winds we bring our freightage home, We help to strike our country's honour dumb; Her noble voice, once heard above the gales, Is lost among the stowage, while the prayer Of our weak neighbours finds us slow to dare. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...STREET-CRIES: 2. THE SHIP OF EARTH by SIDNEY LANIER FOUR LITTLE FOXES by LEW SARETT THE DESTINY OF GENIUS by MARIA ABDY FIFINE AT THE FAIR by ROBERT BROWNING TO ROBERT GRAHAM OF FINTRY by ROBERT BURNS CREOLE SLAVE SONG: THE DIRGE OF SY. MALO by GEORGE WASHINGTON CABLE |