NOT yours? The softly spoken word Whose simple native pathos stirred -- As surely as the melodies You drew divinely from the keys -- The deeps of every soul that heard? The faltering tongue, the practiced hand, Whiche'er you use, great-hearted Pole! You speak what all can understand -- The Language of the Soul. Not ours? This land of which you tell, Where Kosciusko fought and fell, And now a tortured nation stands, With streaming eyes and empty hands, Heroic in the face of hell? Not yours alone this holy ground; Of one great whole it is a part -- What hills, what sundering seas shall bound The Country of the Heart? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MY SENSES DO NOT DECEIVE ME by MARIANNE MOORE TRUE UNTIL DEATH by ROBERT BURNS REMEMBERED MUSIC; A FRAGMENT by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL CLORINDA AND DAMON by ANDREW MARVELL UPON A SPIDER CATCHING A FLY by EDWARD TAYLOR ON THE DEATH OF THE REV. MR. GEORGE WHITEFIELD, 1770 by PHILLIS WHEATLEY |