ART thou her child, born in the proud midday Of her large soul's abundance and excess, Her daughter and her mightiest heritress, Dowered with her thoughts, and lit on thy great way By her great lamps that shine and fail not? Yea! And at this thunderous hour of struggle and stress, Hither across the ocean wilderness What word comes frozen on the frozen spray? @3Neutrality!@1 The tiger from his den Springs at thy mother's throat, and canst thou now Watch with a stranger's gaze? So be it, then! Thy loss is more than hers; for, bruised and torn, She shall yet live without thine aid, and thou Without the crown divine thou might'st have worn. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FEARS IN SOLITUDE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE THE DREAM OF EUGENE ARAM, THE MURDERER by THOMAS HOOD THE USE OF FLOWERS by MARY HOWITT THE GODS OF THE COPYBOOK HEADINGS by RUDYARD KIPLING THE EAGLE AND THE MOLE by ELINOR WYLIE THE VIELD PATH by WILLIAM BARNES TO MRS W. ON HER EXCELLENT VERSES WRITTEN IN A FIT OF SICKNESS by APHRA BEHN |