 | Poems |  |
69
THE MODERN HERO.
“They also serve who only stand and wait.”—
Milton.
Milton.
The lance is rusting on the wall,
No laurel crowns are wove,
And every knightly strain is hushed
In castle, camp and grove.
No laurel crowns are wove,
And every knightly strain is hushed
In castle, camp and grove.
No manly breast now fronts the spear,
No strong arm waves the brand,
To vindicate the rightful cause,
Or stay Oppression's hand.
No strong arm waves the brand,
To vindicate the rightful cause,
Or stay Oppression's hand.
The minstrel's pilgrimage has ceased,
Chivalric days are o'er,
And fiery steeds bear noblemen
To Palestine no more.
Chivalric days are o'er,
And fiery steeds bear noblemen
To Palestine no more.
What battle-field with courage now
Shall ardent minds inspire?
Upon what shrine can youth devote
Its wild yet hallowed fire?
Shall ardent minds inspire?
Upon what shrine can youth devote
Its wild yet hallowed fire?
70
Must the bold heart ignobly pine
Far from heroic strife,
And win no trophies to adorn
This cold and fleeting life?
Far from heroic strife,
And win no trophies to adorn
This cold and fleeting life?
Is there no guerdon for the brave?
No warfare for the free?
No wrong for valor to redress?
For men no victory?
No warfare for the free?
No wrong for valor to redress?
For men no victory?
Shall high and earnest purpose die,
And souls of might grow tame?
Glory no more be warmed to life
By Love's ennobling flame?
And souls of might grow tame?
Glory no more be warmed to life
By Love's ennobling flame?
Forbid it every pulse that leaps
At Beauty's kindling smile,
Forbid it all the glowing dreams
That youthful hearts beguile!
At Beauty's kindling smile,
Forbid it all the glowing dreams
That youthful hearts beguile!
By the clear spell that morning weaves,
By noontide's stirring glare,
By the vast sea, the mighty woods,
And midnight's solemn air;
By noontide's stirring glare,
By the vast sea, the mighty woods,
And midnight's solemn air;
71
By Nature's deep and constant tones,
Tears that are born of song,
And thrills that eloquence awakes
In every human throng;
Tears that are born of song,
And thrills that eloquence awakes
In every human throng;
By childhood's hopefulness serene,
And woman's cherished name,
Let not heroic spirits yield
Their heritage of fame!
And woman's cherished name,
Let not heroic spirits yield
Their heritage of fame!
It may no more be won in arms,
And knighthood's loyal toil,
Nor flourish, like Marengo's grain,
Upon a blood-stained soil.
And knighthood's loyal toil,
Nor flourish, like Marengo's grain,
Upon a blood-stained soil.
It will not live in warrior's tales,
Or lay of troubadour,
Nor shall the scarf of ladye-love
Become its emblem more.
Or lay of troubadour,
Nor shall the scarf of ladye-love
Become its emblem more.
But in the quietude of thought,—
The soul's divine retreat,
Does Valor now her garlands twine,
And rear her proudest seat.
The soul's divine retreat,
Does Valor now her garlands twine,
And rear her proudest seat.
72
They who most bravely can endure,
Most earnestly pursue,
Amid Opinion's tyrant bands
Unto themselves be true!
Most earnestly pursue,
Amid Opinion's tyrant bands
Unto themselves be true!
Rejoice in Beauty more than gain,
Guard well the dreams of youth,
And with devoted firmness live
Crusaders for the Truth!
Guard well the dreams of youth,
And with devoted firmness live
Crusaders for the Truth!
The freedom of the mind maintain,
Its sacredness revere,
And cling to Honor's open path,
As planets to their sphere;
Its sacredness revere,
And cling to Honor's open path,
As planets to their sphere;
Who own no gage but that of Faith,
And with undaunted brow,
Turn from the worshippers of gold,—
These are the heroes now!
And with undaunted brow,
Turn from the worshippers of gold,—
These are the heroes now!
In lonely watchfulness they stand
Upon Time's hoary steep,
And Glory's flickering beacon-lights,
For coming ages keep.
Upon Time's hoary steep,
And Glory's flickering beacon-lights,
For coming ages keep.
73
Thus bravely live heroic men,
A consecrated band;
Life is to them a battle-field,
Their hearts a Holy Land.
A consecrated band;
Life is to them a battle-field,
Their hearts a Holy Land.
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