BY Art's bold privilege Warrior and War-horse stand On ground yet strewn with their last battle's wreck; Let the Steed glory while his Master's hand Lies fixed for ages on his conscious neck; But by the Chieftain's look, though at his side Hangs that day's treasured sword, how firm a check Is given to triumph and all human pride! Yon trophied Mound shrinks to a shadowy speck In his calm presence! Him the mighty deed Elates not, brought far nearer the grave's rest, As shows that time-worn face, for he such seed Has sown as yields, we trust, the fruit of fame In Heaven; hence no one blushes for thy name, Conqueror, 'mid some sad thoughts, divinely blest! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO AN AEOLIAN HARP by SARA TEASDALE THE NYMPH COMPLAINING FOR THE DEATH OF HER FAUN [OR, FAWN] by ANDREW MARVELL TO MY FIANCEE by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS AGAMEMNON: HELEN. CHORUS by AESCHYLUS DAVIDS ELEGIE UPON JONATHAN by JOSEPH BEAUMONT BALLADE OF MID-WINTER NIGHTS by CHARLOTTE LOUISE BERTLESEN PEDDLER WOMAN by ALICE ELODY BREDESON THIRD BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 19 by THOMAS CAMPION SONG: A LADY, RESCUED FROM DEATH BY A KNIGHT, WHO LEAVES HER by THOMAS CAREW |