Η ΤΑΝ, Η ΕΠΙ ΤΑΝ.
[‘This, or on this;—Bring home with thee this shield]
‘This, or on this;—Bring home with thee this shield,
Or be thou, dead, upon this shield brought home’—
So spake the Spartan mother to her son
Whom her own hands had armed. Oh strong of heart!
And famed through all the ages for that word!
Yet know I of a fairer strength than hers—
Strength linked with weakness, steeped in tears and fears,
And tenderness of trembling womanhood;
But true as hers to duty's perfect law.
And such is theirs, who in our England now,
Wives, sisters, mothers, watch by day, by night,
In many a cottage, many a stately hall,
For those dread posts, too slow, too swift, that haste
O'er land and sea, the messengers of doom;
Theirs, who ten thousand times would rather hear
Of loved forms stretched upon the bloody sod,
All cold and stark, but with the debt they owed
To that dear land that bore them duly paid,
Than look to enfold them in strict arms again,
By aught in honour's or in peril's path
Unduly shunned, for that embrace reserved.
