WINGLESS Victory, whose shrine By the Parthenon Glorified our youth divine, Hearken!—they are gone, The young eagles of our nest, They, the brightest, bravest, best, They are flown! Lilies of France, When first they flew, Led their lone advance Great heaven through; Now soar they, brood on brood, Like stars for multitude, To France! France! Save thou the golden flight That wakes the morn, And dares the azure height, The tempests scorn! Save them o'er land and sea, In deeps of air! Thy grace, where'er they be Ensphere them there! Save them, the country's pride, Our wingéd youth! And where they fall enskied, Save thou the truth! O Wingless Victory! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IDEA: TO THE READER OF THESE SONNETS, INTRODUCTION by MICHAEL DRAYTON A BOY'S SUMMER SONG by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR EACH AND [OR, IN] ALL by RALPH WALDO EMERSON IN THE NEOLITHIC AGE by RUDYARD KIPLING REVEL by ABUL HASAN OF SANTA MARIA IN VINCULIS; SONNETS WRITTEN IN AN IRISH PRISON: LIBERTY, EQUALITY ... by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 4. WHO BUT THE LOVER SHOULD KNOW by EDWARD CARPENTER |