Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE SPARTAN MOTHER AND HER SON, by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE SPARTAN MOTHER AND HER SON, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: My son, let virtue animate thy breast
Last Line: "conquer or die -- ""as my brave father died !"
Alternate Author Name(s): Browne, Felicia Dorothea
Subject(s): Mothers & Sons


MOTHER
MY son, let virtue animate thy breast;
Fly to the battle -- spurn inglorious rest!
Take up the spear and lance -- with ardour go,
March proudly forward to repel the foe!
Let all the spirit of thy noble sire,
With rising energy thy soul inspire!
Thy bleeding country calls thee to the fight,
And duty prompts thee to defend the right.
Fly swiftly, Isadas, for glory says,
"Why dost thou waste in peace thy slothful days?"

SON
I go my mother, for the deathless crown
Which fires the youthful hero to renown,
And if thy soldier shall return to thee,
And bring the, laurel-wreath of victory,
Ah! let the tribute of thy praise impart,
The dearest pleasure of my glowing heart.
And should I fall -- oh! be my glorious grave
Crowned with the patriot-honours of the brave.
Think that I died in virtue's sacred cause;
Think that I died to win her bright applause.

MOTHER
My noble Isadas, to me what pride,
Wert thou to die -- as thy brave father died,
Go, young enthusiast, to the battle go,
Repel with native zeal the daring foe,
Oh! that I were a bird, with thee Ied fly,
And search the ranks among with piercing eye,
For thee my son: thy actions brave Ied mark,
And grave them in my breast. -- But hark ! oh, hark!
The martial trumpet sounds to war's alarms;
Farewell my hero, haste thee from my arms.

SON
Adieu ! my mother, if with glory crowned
Home I return not, scarred with many a wound,
I'll bravely fall in battle's rushing tide;
Conquer or die -- "as my brave father died !"








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