WE are what we imagine, and our deeds Are born of dreaming. Europe acts to-day Epics that little children in their play Conjured, and statesmen murmured in their creeds; In barrack, court and school were sown those seeds, Like Dragon's teeth, which ripen to affray Their sowers. Dreams of slaughter rise to slay, And fate itself is stuff that fancy breeds. Mock, then, no more at dreaming, lest our own Create for us a like reality! Let not imagination's soil be sown With armèd men but justice, so that we May for a world of tyranny stone And dream from that despair — democracy. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FIGHT AT SAN JACINTO [APRIL 21, 1836] by JOHN WILLIAMSON PALMER VOICES by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS SHADOWS by WILLIAM HERVEY ALLEN JR. SONG OF THE FATHERLAND by ERNST MORITZ ARNDT STOKLEWATH; OR, THE CUMBRIAN VILLAGE by SUSANNA BLAMIRE RUE DU BOIS by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |