LAST night, without a voice, that Vision spake Fear to my Soul, and sadness which might seem Wholly dissevered from our present theme; Yet, my beloved Country! I partake Of kindred agitations for thy sake; Thou, too, dost visit oft my midnight dream; Thy glory meets me with the earliest beam Of light, which tells that Morning is awake. If aught impair thy beauty or destroy, Or but forebode destruction, I deplore With filial love the sad vicissitude; If thou hast fallen, and righteous Heaven restore The prostrate, then my spring-time is renewed, And sorrow bartered for exceeding joy. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE HOUSEKEEPER by ROBERT FROST OUTIDANA: A DIRGE by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES THE EARLY MORNING by HILAIRE BELLOC AN EPITAPH ON M.H. by CHARLES COTTON O BLACK AND UNKNOWN BARDS by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON MAPLE LEAVES by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH |