TO him who sang of "Home, sweet Home," In strains so sweet the simple lay Has thrilled a million hearts, we come A nation's grateful debt to pay. Yet not for him the bust we raise; Ah no! can lifeless lips prolong Fame's trumpet voice? The poet's praise Lives in the music of his song! The noble dead we fondly seek To honor with applauding breath: Unheeded fall the words we speak Upon "the dull, cold ear of death." Yet not in vain the spoken word, Nor vain the monument we raise; With quicker throbs our hearts are stirred To catch the nobleness we praise! Columbia's sons, -- we share his fame; 'T is for ourselves the bust we rear, That they who mark the graven name May know that name to us is dear; Dear as the home the exile sees, -- The fairest spot beneath the sky, -- Where first -- upon a mother's knees -- He slept, and where he yearns to die. But not alone the lyric fire Was his; the Drama's muse can tell His genius could a Kean inspire; A Kemble owned his magic spell; A Kean, to "Brutus'" self so true (As true to Art and Nature's laws), He seemed the man the poet drew, And shared with him the town's applause. Kind hearts and brave, with truth severe, He drew, unconscious, from his own; O nature rare! But pilgrims here Will oft'nest say, in pensive tone, With reverent face and lifted hand, "'T was he -- by Fortune forced to roam -- Who, homeless in a foreign land, So sweetly sang the joys of home!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LATEST DECALOGUE by ARTHUR HUGH CLOUGH TO THE DANDELION by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL AS THE NEW YEAR [18 B.C.] DAWNED by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS ON THE THRESHOLD by ASTLEY H. BALDWIN ENGLISH COUNTRY (WHERE THREE SHIRES MEET) by WILLIAM BLISS THE BEST JUDGMENT by ALICE CARY LINES FROM A NOTEBOOK - MAY/JULY 1811 by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE |