CLARKSON! it was an obstinate hill to climb: How toilsome -- nay, how dire -- it was, by thee Is known; by none, perhaps, so feelingly: But thou, who, starting in thy fervent prime, Didst first lead forth that enterprise sublime, Hast heard the constant Voice its charge repeat, Which, out of thy young heart's oracular seat, First roused thee. -- O true yoke-fellow of Time, Duty's intrepid liegeman, see, the palm Is won, and by all Nations shall be worn! The blood-stained Writing is for ever torn; And thou henceforth wilt have a good man's calm, A great man's happiness; thy zeal shall find Repose at length, firm friend of human kind! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...F. DE SAMARA TO A.G.A. by EMILY JANE BRONTE EPITAPH FOR SIR PHILIP SIDNEY, AT ST. PAUL'S WITHOUT A MONUMENT ... by EDWARD HERBERT MONICA'S LAST PRAYER by MATTHEW ARNOLD I WOULD NOT HAVE IT SO by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE |