POEMS OF PATRIOTISM AND FREEDOM. BREATHES THERE THE MAN BREATHES there the man with soul so dead Who never to himself hath said, This is my own, my native land! Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned, As home his footsteps he hath turned From wandering on a foreign strand? If such there breathe, go, mark him well; For him no minstrel raptures swell; High though his titles, proud his name, Boundless his wealth as wish can claim, Despite those titles, power, and pelf, The wretch, concentered all in self, Living, shall forfeit fair renown, And, doubly dying, shall go down To the vile dust from whence he sprung, Unwept, unhonored, and unsung. SIR WALTER SCOTT. MY COUNTRY. THERE is a land, of every land the pride, He eyed the flinching Tuscans, And scorn was in his eye. Quoth he, "The she-wolf's litter Stand savagely at bay; But will ye dare to follow, If Astur clears the way?" Then, whirling up his broadsword And smote with all his might. Right deftly turned the blow. The blow, though turned, came yet too nigh; To see the red blood flow. He reeled, and on Herminius He leaned one breathing-space, Then, like a wild-cat mad with wounds, Sprang right at Astur's face. Through teeth and skull and helmet So fierce a thrust he sped, The good sword stood a hand breadth out Behind the Tuscan's head. And the great lord of Luna Fell at that deadly stroke, As falls on Mount Avernus A thunder-smitten oak. Far o'er the crashing forest The giant arms lie spread ; And the pale augurs, muttering low, Gaze on the blasted head. On Astur's throat Horatius And thrice and four times tugged amain, Fair guests, that waits you here! But at his haughty challenge A sullen murmur ran, Mingled with wrath and shame and dread, Along that glittering van. There lacked not men of prowess, Nor men of lordly race, For all Etruria's noblest Were round the fatal place. But all Etruria's noblest Felt their hearts sink to see On the earth the bloody corpses, In the path the dauntless three; Was none who would be foremost And on the tossing sea of steel Yet one man for one moment Strode out before the crowd; Well known was he to all the three, And they gave him greeting loud: "Now welcome, welcome, Sextus ! Now welcome to thy home! Why dost thou stay, and turn away? Here lies the road to Rome." |