The Finding of The Book and Other Poems By William Alexander |
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| The Finding of The Book and Other Poems | ||
Various and manifold as they are vast
The glories whereunto men bend the knee,
And an exceeding glory is for thee;
Triumphant quietude of soul thou hast.
When now far futures shall lie in the past,
Thine, O my kinsman, partly thine shall be
Colossal epic of the frozen sea,
Pindaric passionate of the Northern blast.
O strongholds of the winter wild and lone,
O Balaklavas of the rolling ice,
O struggles on the sledge or in the yards,
Ye tell our England that of many a son
Like thee are borne victorious agonies
Magnificent as charges of the Guards.
The glories whereunto men bend the knee,
And an exceeding glory is for thee;
Triumphant quietude of soul thou hast.
When now far futures shall lie in the past,
Thine, O my kinsman, partly thine shall be
Colossal epic of the frozen sea,
Pindaric passionate of the Northern blast.
O strongholds of the winter wild and lone,
O Balaklavas of the rolling ice,
O struggles on the sledge or in the yards,
Ye tell our England that of many a son
Like thee are borne victorious agonies
Magnificent as charges of the Guards.
| The Finding of The Book and Other Poems | ||