 | Areytos or songs and ballads of the South |  |
142
IF NOT READY.
If not ready,
Stern and steady,
When the insolent foeman braves,
Then I see ye, doom'd already,
Cowards fitted to be slaves!
If ye falter
At the altar,
Ye would take the field in vain;
Rather stoop ye to the halter,
And as bondsmen wear the chain!
Stern and steady,
When the insolent foeman braves,
Then I see ye, doom'd already,
Cowards fitted to be slaves!
If ye falter
At the altar,
Ye would take the field in vain;
Rather stoop ye to the halter,
And as bondsmen wear the chain!
What a story,
Writ in glory,
By the hero-hosts of old;
To become, ere trees grow hoary,
Shame for fame, by cowards sold!
Where's the ranger,
Braving danger,
That beneath these old trees stood?
Every feeling sternly steeling
For the land that drank his blood!
Writ in glory,
By the hero-hosts of old;
To become, ere trees grow hoary,
Shame for fame, by cowards sold!
Where's the ranger,
Braving danger,
That beneath these old trees stood?
Every feeling sternly steeling
For the land that drank his blood!
Oh! the sorrow,
That can borrow
From the past no braver thought:
That leaves basely to the morrow,
Deeds we should to-day have wrought!
In the Hour
Still lies the Power,
But if not ready to seize it then,
We lose the power, losing the hour,
And never for ages shall find it again.
That can borrow
From the past no braver thought:
That leaves basely to the morrow,
Deeds we should to-day have wrought!
In the Hour
Still lies the Power,
But if not ready to seize it then,
We lose the power, losing the hour,
And never for ages shall find it again.
| Areytos or songs and ballads of the South | |