ONE hour be silent, sounds of war! Delay the battle he foretold, And let the Bard's triumphant star Send down from heaven its milder gold! Let Fame, that plucks but laurel now For loyal heroes, turn away, And twine, to crown our poet's brow, The greener garland of the bay. For he, our earliest minstrel, fills The land with echoes, sweet and long, Gives language to her silent hills, And bids her rivers move to song. The Phosphor of the Nation's dawn, Sole risen above our tuneless coast, As Hesper now, his lamp burns on, -- The leader of the starry host. He sings of mountains and of streams, Of storied field and haunted dale, Yet hears a voice through all his dreams, Which says: "The Good shall yet prevail." He sings of Truth, he sings of Right; He sings of Freedom, and his strains March with our armies to the fight, Ring in the bondman's falling chains. God, bid him live, till in her place Truth, crushed to earth, again shall rise, -- The "mother of a mighty race" Fulfil her poet's prophecies! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ESTRANGEMENT by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON GETTING A PURCHASE by KAREN SWENSON HOW TO KNOW LOVE FROM DECEIT by WILLIAM BLAKE EROS by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES TO IMAGINATION (2) by EMILY JANE BRONTE THE FINDING OF THE LYRE by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL SONG: 6 by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |