NOT as a poor requital of the joy With which my childhood heard that lay of thine, Which, like an echo of the song divine At Bethlehem breathed above the Holy Boy, Bore to my ear the Airs of Palestine, -- Not to the poet, but the man I bring In friendship's fearless trust my offering: How much it lacks I feel, and thou wilt see, Yet well I know that thou hast deemed with me Life all too earnest, and its time too short For dreamy ease and Fancy's graceful sport; And girded for thy constant strife with wrong, Like Nehemiah fighting while he wrought The broken walls of Zion, even thy song Hath a rude martial tone, a blow in every thought! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BLINDED BIRD by THOMAS HARDY UNDER HOUSE ARREST IN WINDSOR by HENRY HOWARD MURMURINGS IN A FIELD HOSPITAL by CARL SANDBURG THE PUMPKIN by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER RESIGNATION by AUGUSTE ANGELLIER THE CYNOTAPH by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM |