THE German tyrant plays thee for his game; Italy curbs thee; France gives little rest; And o'er the broad sea dost thou think to tame God's young plantation in the virgin West? Three kingdoms did He sift to find the seed, And sowed; then open threw the sea's wide door; And millions came, used but to starve and bleed, And built the great republic of the poor. Remember Dover Strait that shore from thee Whole empires, hidden in the banked-up clouds Of England's greatness! Of all lands are we, But chiefly northmen; still their might unshrouds The fates; dream not their children of this sod Cease to be freemen when they bow to God! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PLACE FOR A THIRD by ROBERT FROST FIFTH AVENUE-SPRING AFTERNOON by LOUIS UNTERMEYER RAIN AFTER A VAUDEVILLE SHOW by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET IN TENEBRIS: 2 by THOMAS HARDY ON THE THRESHOLD by ASTLEY H. BALDWIN FIDELIA ARGUING WITH HER SELF ON THE DIFFICULTY FINDING TRUE RELIGION by JANE BARKER |