Emperors and Kings, how oft have temples rung With impious thanksgiving, the Almighty's scorn! How oft above their altars have been hung Trophies that led the good and wise to mourn Triumphant wrong, battle of battle born, And sorrow that to fruitless sorrow clung! Now, from Heaven-sanctioned victory, Peace is sprung; In this firm hour Salvation lifts her horn. Glory to arms! But, conscious that the nerve Of popular reason, long mistrusted, freed Your thrones, ye Powers, from duty fear to swerve! Be just, be grateful; nor, the oppressor's creed Reviving, heavier chastisement deserve Than ever forced unpitied hearts to bleed. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WORLD'S TRIUMPHS by MATTHEW ARNOLD ADDRESS TO SUBSCRIBERS .. FUND FOR CLOTHING CHILDREN CHARITY SCHOOL by BERNARD BARTON SONG, FR. A VISION OF GIORGIONE: FELICE'S SONG by GORDON BOTTOMLEY THE OLD HOUSE by GRACE DUFFIE BOYLAN BALAUSTION'S ADVENTURE: PART 4 by ROBERT BROWNING THE PALACE OF OMARTES by EDWARD GEORGE EARLE LYTTON BULWER-LYTTON |