THY days are done, thy fame begun; Thy country's strains record The triumphs of her chosen Son, The slaughters of his sword! The deeds he did, the fields he won, The freedom he restored! Though thou art fall'n, while we are free Thou shalt not taste of death! The generous blood that flow'd from thee Disdain'd to sink beneath: Within our veins its currents be, Thy spirit on our breath! Thy name, our charging hosts along, Shall be the battle-word! Thy fall, the theme of choral song From virgin voices pour'd! To weep would do thy glory wrong; Thou shalt not be deplored. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BRIDGE: PROEM. TO BROOKLYN BRIDGE by HAROLD HART CRANE ON EXPLORATION by JAMES GALVIN ODE SUNG AT THE OPENING OF THE INTERNATIONAL EXHIBITION by ALFRED TENNYSON THE BLACKBIRD by ALFRED TENNYSON AH, HAD I SEEN THEE SOONER! by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS |