THE German tyrant plays thee for his game; Italy curbs thee; France gives little rest; And o'er the broad sea dost thou think to tame God's young plantation in the virgin West? Three kingdoms did He sift to find the seed, And sowed; then open threw the sea's wide door; And millions came, used but to starve and bleed, And built the great republic of the poor. Remember Dover Strait that shore from thee Whole empires, hidden in the banked-up clouds Of England's greatness! Of all lands are we, But chiefly northmen; still their might unshrouds The fates; dream not their children of this sod Cease to be freemen when they bow to God! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LINES ON LEAVING THE BEDFORD STR. SCHOOL HOUSE by GEORGE SANTAYANA JOAN OF ARC IN RHEIMS by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS GYPSY MAN by JAMES LANGSTON HUGHES THESE TIMES by GERTRUDE RYDER BENNETT A DREAM AND A SONG by WILLIAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE |