'T IS sweet to fight our battles o'er, And crown with honest praise The gray old chief, who strikes no more The blow of better days. Before the true and trusted sage With willing hearts we bend, When years have touched with hallowing age Our Master, Guide, and Friend. For all his manhood's labor past, For love and faith long tried, His age is honored to the last, Though strength and will have died. But when, untamed by toil and strife, Full in our front he stands, The torch of light, the shield of life, Still lifted in his hands, No temple, though its walls resound With bursts of ringing cheers, Can hold the honors that surround His manhood's twice-told years! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WINTER GARDEN THEATRE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS BUCOLIC COMEDY: KING COPHETUA AND THE BEGGAR MAID by EDITH SITWELL HOW TO GET ON IN SOCIETY by JOHN BETJEMAN REMEMBERING NAT TURNER by STERLING ALLEN BROWN TO RUSSIA by CINCINNATUS HEINE MILLER AT ELLIS ISLAND by MARGARET LIVINGSTON CHANLER ALDRICH FRAGMENTS INTENDED FOR DEATH'S JEST-BOOK: DIRGE by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |