LAST night, without a voice, that Vision spake Fear to my Soul, and sadness which might seem Wholly dissevered from our present theme; Yet, my beloved Country! I partake Of kindred agitations for thy sake; Thou, too, dost visit oft my midnight dream; Thy glory meets me with the earliest beam Of light, which tells that Morning is awake. If aught impair thy beauty or destroy, Or but forebode destruction, I deplore With filial love the sad vicissitude; If thou hast fallen, and righteous Heaven restore The prostrate, then my spring-time is renewed, And sorrow bartered for exceeding joy. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GEORGE LEVISON OR, THE SCHOOLFELLOWS by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM AMERICA A PROPHECY by WILLIAM BLAKE SONNETS OF SEVEN CITIES: CHICAGO by BERTON BRALEY PASTORAL BALLADS: SPRING by THOMAS BREREWOOD ON A PIECE OF UNWROUGHT PIPECLAY by JOHN FREDERICK BRYANT |