IN that high country whither thou art gone, Right noble friend, thou walkest with thy peers, The gathered great of many a hundred years! Few are left like thee—few, I say, not none, Else were thy England soon a Babylon, A land of outcry, mockery, and tears! Higher than law, a refuge from its fears, Wast thou, in whom embodied justice shone. The smile that gracious broke on thy grand face Was like the sunrise of a morn serene Among the mountains, making sweet their awe. Thou both the gentle and the strong didst draw; Thee childhood loved, and on thy breast would lean, As, whence thou cam'st, it knew the lofty place. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CUPID MISTAKEN by MATTHEW PRIOR THE HOUSE ON THE HILL by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON NOTHING WILL DIE by ALFRED TENNYSON THE IVORY CRADLE by AUGUSTE ANGELLIER ON THE DEATH OF MRS. MARTINEAU by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD MID-OCEAN by WILLIAM ROSE BENET |