 | The Poetical Works of Laman Blanchard |  |
126
III
TO-MORROW.
Who shall imagine how thy wing may sweep,
Many and mighty nations lying bare,
To blight—war—famine? Who shall say if e'er
The day may burn again? how men that sleep
May wake, and wander up and down, and keep
Their eyes on the dark east in long despair!
Or, coming, wak'st thou from thy cloudy lair
A lion-sun? or like a lark, to reap
Music in heaven for the glad ear of earth?
The signs of many yesterdays appear
But fading sparks on gossip memory's hearth;
Thine are as comets burning. For thy birth
Freedom, half stifled in the clasp of Fear,
Looks o'er a wailing world. The dawn, the dawn, is near.
| The Poetical Works of Laman Blanchard | |