YE Spartan mothers, gentle ones, Of lion-hearted, loving sons, Fal'n, the flower of English youth, To a barbarous foe in a land uncouth:-- O what a delicate sacrifice! Unequal the stake and costly the price As when the queen of Love deplor'd Her darling by the wild-beast gor'd. They rode to war as if to the hunt, But ye at home, ye bore the brunt, Bore the siege of torturing fears, Fed your hope on the bread of tears. Proud and spotless warriors they With love or sword to lead the way; For ye had cradled heart and hand, The commander harken'd to your command. Ah, weeping mothers, now all is o'er, Ye know your honor and mourn no more: Nor ask ye a name in England's story, Who gave your dearest for her glory. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS ON TAGORE by MARIANNE MOORE MOTTO TO THE SONGS OF INNOCENCE & OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE THE WASHERS OF THE SHROUD; OCTOBER, 1861 by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL PHILLIS'S AGE by MATTHEW PRIOR SONNET: 151 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE |