Two hours before the dawning, while yet the night-stars gleam, I wake me from my slumber, and plunge into the stream; I look around and listen -- the morning watch is mine -- I hear the beeches rustle, I hear the murmuring pine. My comrades lie around me; but yet they do not sleep. They call upon their captain -- they call him and they weep; 'Up, up, Iotis! rouse thee -- to battle with thy best! The enemy are on us! -- up, up, we may not rest!' 'What shall I say, my children? -- how answer to your call? This wound of mine is mortal; deep struck the deadly ball; 'Tis burning in my bosom -- ye summon me in vain: O! never in the combat my sword shall flash again! 'Your hands, my brave ones! raise me -- once more erect I stand, Once more ye gather round me, my true and trusty band! Sounds not my voice as clearly as in the battle cry? Then bring me wine, bright sparkling, that I may drink and die! 'O! were I on the mountains -- the mountains wild and free! Beside the upland forest, beneath the spreading tree; To feel the breezes blowing, to hear the wild-bird's song, And sheep-bells gaily jingling, as the white flock moves along!' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ECHOES: 4. INVICTUS by WILLIAM ERNEST HENLEY THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET by SAMUEL WOODWORTH WHITE FOR MOURNING by AL-FATA AL-KAFIF PLEASURE AND PAIN by ALICE CARY DOVECOTT MILL: 14. THE WIFE by PHOEBE CARY TO A KINGFISHER by PATRICK REGINALD CHALMERS UPON THE FAIRE ETHIOPIAN SENT TO A GENTLEWOMAN by RICHARD CRASHAW |