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HEROES.
Are there none to fight as Theseus fought
Far in the young world's misty dawn?
Or to teach as gray-haired Nestor taught?
Mother Earth! Are the Heroes gone?
Far in the young world's misty dawn?
Or to teach as gray-haired Nestor taught?
Mother Earth! Are the Heroes gone?
Gone? In a grander form they rise;
Dead? We may clasp their hands in ours;
And catch the light of their clearer eyes,
And wreathe their brows with immortal flowers.
Wherever a noble deed is done
'T is the pulse of a Hero's heart is stirred;
Wherever Right has a triumph won
There are the Heroes' voices heard.
Dead? We may clasp their hands in ours;
And catch the light of their clearer eyes,
And wreathe their brows with immortal flowers.
Wherever a noble deed is done
'T is the pulse of a Hero's heart is stirred;
Wherever Right has a triumph won
There are the Heroes' voices heard.
Their armor rings on a fairer field
Than the Greek and the Trojan fiercely trod,
For Freedom's sword is the blade they wield,
And the gleam above is the smile of God.
So, in his isle of calm delight,
Jason may sleep the years away;
For the Heroes live, and the sky is bright,
And the world is a braver world to-day.
Than the Greek and the Trojan fiercely trod,
For Freedom's sword is the blade they wield,
And the gleam above is the smile of God.
So, in his isle of calm delight,
Jason may sleep the years away;
For the Heroes live, and the sky is bright,
And the world is a braver world to-day.
