Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE FALL OF WARSAW, by SARAH LOUISA P. SMITH



Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE FALL OF WARSAW, by            
First Line: Through warsaw there is weeping
Last Line: Breathe a blessing o'er the slain!
Subject(s): Warsaw, Poland


THROUGH Warsaw there is weeping,
And a voice of sorrow now,
For the hero who is sleeping,
With death upon his brow;
The trumpet-tone will waken
No more his martial tread,
Nor the battle-ground be shaken,
When his banner is outspread!
Now let our hymn
Float through the aisle,
Faintly and dim,
Where moonbeams smile,
Sisters, let our solemn strain
Breathe a blessing o'er the slain!

There's a voice of grief in Warsaw,
The mourning of the brave
O'er the chieftain who is gather'd
Unto his honour'd grave;
Who now will face the foeman?
Who break the tyrant's chain?
Their bravest one lies fallen,
And sleeping with the slain.
Now let our hymn
Float through the aisle,
Faintly and dim,
Where moonbeams smile;
Sisters, let our dirge be said
Slowly o'er the sainted dead!

There's a voice of woman weeping
In Warsaw heard to-night,
And eyes close not in sleeping,
That late with joy were bright;
No Festal torch is lighted,
No notes of music swell;
Their country's hope was blighted.
When that son of freedom fell!
Now let our hymn
Float through the aisle,
Faintly and dim,
Where moonbeams smile;
Sisters, let our hymn arise
Sadly to the midnight skies!

And a voice of love undying,
From the tomb of other years,
Like the west wind's summer sighing,
It blends with manhood's tears;
It whispers not of glory,
Nor fame's unfading youth,
But lingers o'er a story
Of young affection's truth.
Now let our hymn
Float through the aisle,
Faintly and dim,
Where moonbeams smile;
Sisters, let our solemn strain
Breathe a blessing o'er the slain!





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