IT fell upon us like a crushing woe, Sudden and terrible. "Can it be?" we said "That he from whom we hoped so much, is dead, Most foully murdered ere he met the foe?" Why not? The men that would disrupt the State By such base plots as theirs -- frauds, thefts and lies -- What code of honor do they recognize? They thirst for blood to satisfy their hate, Our blood: so be it; but for every blow Woe shall befall them; not in their wild way, But stern and pitiless, we will repay, Until, like swollen streams, their blood shall flow: And should we pause; the thought of Ellsworth slain, Will steel our aching hearts to strike again! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AULD ROBIN GRAY by ANNE LINDSAY A MOTHER'S WEALTH by WILLIAM C. CAMERON SONNET: 186 by LUIS DE CAMOENS TO THE MOST PRINCELY AND VERTUOUS THE LADY ELIZABETH by THOMAS CAMPION THE VIRGIN OF ALBERT (NOTRE DAME DE BREBIERES) by GEORGE HERBERT CLARKE OLNEY HYMNS: 29. EXHORTATION TO PRAYER by WILLIAM COWPER |