WINGLESS Victory, whose shrine By the Parthenon Glorified our youth divine, Hearken!—they are gone, The young eagles of our nest, They, the brightest, bravest, best, They are flown! Lilies of France, When first they flew, Led their lone advance Great heaven through; Now soar they, brood on brood, Like stars for multitude, To France! France! Save thou the golden flight That wakes the morn, And dares the azure height, The tempests scorn! Save them o'er land and sea, In deeps of air! Thy grace, where'er they be Ensphere them there! Save them, the country's pride, Our wingéd youth! And where they fall enskied, Save thou the truth! O Wingless Victory! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MY MOTHER, 1930 by KAREN SWENSON THE HUMAN ABSTRACT, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE A MAN'S REQUIREMENTS by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE SUPERSEDED by THOMAS HARDY MY BED IS A BOAT by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON AT ELLIS ISLAND by MARGARET LIVINGSTON CHANLER ALDRICH TO SWEET MEAT, SOUR SAUCE; AN IMITATION OF THEOCRITUS OR ANACREON by PHILIP AYRES |