(on his return from Congress, September 17, 1842) Not from the bloody field, Borne on his battered shield, By foes o'ercome, But, from a sterner fight, In the defence of Right, Clothed in a conquerer's might, We hail him home. Where Slavery's minions cower Before the servile power, He bore their ban; And, like an aged oak, That braved the lightning's stroke, When thunders round it broke, Stood up, A MAN. Nay -- when they stormed aloud, And round him, like a cloud, Came, thick and black, He, single-handed, strove, And, like Olympian Jove, With his own thunder, drove The phalanx back. No leafy wreath we twine, Of oak or Isthmian pine, To grace his brow; Like his own locks of gray, Such leaves would fall away, As will the grateful lay, We weave him now. But Time shall touch the page, That tells how Quincy's sage Has dared to live, Save as he touches wine, Or Shakspeare's glowing line, Or Raphael's forms divine, New life to give. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SATIRES OF CIRCUMSTANCE: 12. AT THE DRAPER'S by THOMAS HARDY FOUR LITTLE FOXES by LEW SARETT HARMOSAN by RICHARD CHENEVIX TRENCH ON THE DEATH OF THE REV. MR. GEORGE WHITEFIELD, 1770 by PHILLIS WHEATLEY SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 7. THE SLEEPING BEAUTY by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) ON STIRLING; SEEING THE ROYAL PALACE IN RUIN by ROBERT BURNS |