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A Ballad of Heroes
Austin Dobson
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Because you passed, and now are not,—
Because, in some remoter day, Your sacred dust from doubtful spot Was blown of ancient airs away,— Because you perished,—must men say Your deeds were naught, and so profane Your lives with that cold burden ? Nay, The deeds you wrought are not in vain! Though, it may be, above the plot That hid your once imperial clay, No greener than o'er men forgot The unregarding grasses sway;— Though there no sweeter is the lay Of careless birds,—though you remain Without distinction of decay,— The deeds you wrought are not in vain! No. For while yet in tower or cot Your story stirs the pulses' play; And men forget the sordid lot— The sordid care, of cities gray;— While yet, beset in homelier fray, They learn from you the lesson plain That Life may go, so Honor stay,— The deeds you wrought are not in vain. ENVOY Heroes of old! I humbly lay |
