HERE Martyn lies. In manhood's early bloom The Christian hero finds a pagan tomb. Religion, sorrowing o'er her favorite son, Points to the glorious trophies that he won. Eternal trophies! not with carnage red, Not stained with tears by hapless captives shed, But trophies of the Cross! For that dear name, Through every form of danger, death, and shame, Onward he journeyed to a happier shore, Where danger, death, and shame assault no more. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PHANTOM-LOVER [OR, WOOER] by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES THE PLOUGHMAN by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES THE RUBAIYAT, 1879 EDITION: 7 by OMAR KHAYYAM IN APIA BAY by CHARLES GEORGE DOUGLAS ROBERTS FESTE'S SONG (2), FR. TWELFTH NIGHT by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE |