OF mortal parents is the Hero born By whom the undaunted Tyrolese are led? Or is it Tell's great Spirit, from the dead Returned to animate an age forlorn? He comes like Phoebus through the gates of morn When dreary darkness is discomfited, Yet mark his modest state! upon his head, That simple crest, a heron's plume, is worn. O Liberty! they stagger at the shock From van to rear -- and with one mind would flee, But half their host is buried: -- rock on rock Descends: -- beneath this godlike Warrior, see! Hills, torrents, woods, embodied to bemock The Tyrant, and confound his cruelty. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FAIR SINGER by ANDREW MARVELL LEFT BEHIND by ELIZABETH AKERS ALLEN THE KNITTING by MARGARET BARBER GUINEVERE TO LANCELOT by ROBERT BATSON A JAPANESE EVENING by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE GOLDEN AGE by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE |