IN vain you talk of fruits and flowers, When rude December chills the plain, And nights are cold, and long the hours, To damp the ardour of the swain; Who, parting from his social fire, All comfort must forego, And here, and there, And every where Pursue the invading foe. But we must sleep in frosts and snows; No season breaks up our campaign: Hard as the oaks, we dare oppose The autumnal, or the wintry reign. Alike to us, the winds that blow In Summer's season gay, Or those that rave On Hudson's wave, And drift his ice away. Traitors and death may cloud our scene, The ball may pierce, the cold may kill, And dire misfortunes intervene: But Freedom shall be potent, still, To drive these Britons from our shore, Who, cruel and unkind, With slavish chain Attempt, in vain, Our free-born limbs to bind. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PEACE by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS A TOWN WINDOW by JOHN DRINKWATER ODE TO SILENCE by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY A RHYMED REVIEW; 'LAUGHING MUSE' (BY ARTHUR GUITERMAN) by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS DISCIPLINE by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE SECRET OF THE BEES by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON HOLLYWOOD NOCTURNE by JANE BOWER |