 | The Poetical Works of James Gates Percival |  |
I. The Song of Heroes.
Of Hoel, high and glorious, raise the pæan,Bards, with hoary hair, like streaming meteor!
Strike the harp, in martial symphony!
Close the strain in sadness!
The deeds of other days, worthy heroes,
Bright as holy Heaven, fair as vernal flowers,
Strong as mountain wolves, lions too in fight,
Mild as April showers, in their peaceful days,
Ruling righteously, conquering nobly,—
Such, alas! are seen no more.
No more shall hero's arm wield the falchion
High-born Hoel bore to victory.
Rust has dimmed it; time has tarnished it:—
Breathe us tones of sorrow!
| The Poetical Works of James Gates Percival | |