Three sorrows, three invisible swords are nailed In this cold heart, and all my hopes have failed. First the gods perished to whom men had prayed Cradled in fancy; them the truth betrayed, Then time, the world, and ah! the fangs of lust Embittered Love, and dragged it in the dust. Last my sad country, 'mid a rabble's jeers, Suffered the outrage of the treacherous years. ||Now|| too, high-meted soul, tho' stricken, proud Enough for silence and the common shroud. Bow; meet contented the ignoble odds That vanquished Spain and Friendship and the Gods. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PARASITICS: TO CERTAIN POETS by CONRAD AIKEN SPEAKING TERMS by JAMES GALVIN PENDULUM by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON POSSUM SONG (A WARNING) by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON ODE TO THE JOHNS HOPKINS UNIVERSITY by SIDNEY LANIER THE BOOK OF STONES AND LILIES by AMY LOWELL |