Give me the nerve That never will swerve Running out on life's ledges of danger; Mine, mine be the nerve That in peril will serve, Since life is to safety a stranger. When roaring below The cataracts go, And tempests are over me scudding; Give, give me the calm That is better than balm, And the courage that keepeth new-budding. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THEN LAUGH by BERTHA ADAMS BACKUS AFTER THE LAST BREATH (J.H. 1813-1904) by THOMAS HARDY ROME. AT THE PYRAMID OF CESTIUS NEAR THE GRAVES OF SHELLEY by THOMAS HARDY TO THE UNKNOWN EROS: BOOK 1: 16. A FAREWELL by COVENTRY KERSEY DIGHTON PATMORE MINNIE AND WINNIE by ALFRED TENNYSON THE DAY-DREAM: THE SLEEPING BEAUTY by ALFRED TENNYSON BUBBLING WINE by ABU ZAKARIYYA |