"None knew thee but to love thee, Nor named thee but to praise."
WARREN"S ADDRESS AT THE BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL
JOHN PIERPONT
Stand! the ground"s your own, my braves!
Will ye give it up to slaves?
Will ye look for greener graves?
Hope ye mercy still?
What"s the mercy despots feel?
Hear it in that battle peal!
Read it on yon bristling steel!
Ask it--ye who will.
Fear ye foes who kill for hire?
Will ye to your _homes_ retire?
Look behind you! they"re afire!
And, before you, see Who have done it!--From the vale On they come!--and will ye quail?-- Leaden rain and iron hail Let their welcome be!
In the G.o.d of battles trust!
Die we may--and die we must: But, O where can dust to dust Be consigned so well, As where heaven its dews shall shed, On the martyred patriot"s bed, And the rocks shall raise their head, Of his deeds to tell?
Biographical and Historical: John Pierpont was a Unitarian clergyman of Connecticut, who published several volumes of poetry. General Joseph Warren was one of the generals in command of the patriot army at the battle of Bunker Hill, and was killed in the battle. He was counted one of the bravest and most unselfish patriots of the Revolutionary War. In this poem we have the poet"s idea of how General Warren inspired his men.
COLUMBUS
JOAQUIN MILLER
Behind him lay the gray Azores, Behind the Gates of Hercules; Before him not the ghosts of sh.o.r.es, Before him only sh.o.r.eless seas.
The good mate said: "Now must we pray, For lo! the very stars are gone.
Brave Admiral, speak, what shall I say?"
"Why, say "sail on! sail on! and on!""
"My men grow mutinous day by day; My men grow ghastly wan and weak."
The stout mate thought of home; a spray Of salt wave washed his swarthy cheek.
"What shall I say, brave Admiral, say, If we sight naught but seas at dawn?"
"Why, you shall say at break of day, "Sail on! sail on! and on!""
They sailed and sailed, as winds might blow.
Until at last the blanched mate said: "Why, now not even G.o.d would know Should I and all my men fall dead.
These very winds forget their way, For G.o.d from these dread seas is gone, Now speak, brave Admiral, speak and say"-- He said: "Sail on! sail on! and on!"
They sailed. They sailed. Then spake the mate; "This mad sea shows his teeth to-night.
He curls his lip, he lies in wait, With lifted teeth, as if to bite!
Brave Admiral, say but one good word: What shall we do when hope is gone?"
The words leapt like a leaping sword; "Sail on! sail on! and on!"
Then, pale and worn, he kept his deck, And peered through darkness. Ah, that night Of all dark nights! And then a speck-- A light! A light! A light! A light!
It grew, a starlit flag unfurled!
It grew to be Time"s burst of dawn.
He gained a world; he gave that world Its grandest lesson: "On! sail on!"
Biographical and Historical: Cincinnatus Heine Miller (Joaquin [hoa"kin]
Miller) was born in Indiana in 1841. Joining the general movement to the West after the discovery of gold, his parents moved to the Pacific coast in 1850. He died in 1914.
"In point of power, workmanship, and feeling, among all the poems written by Americans, we are inclined to give first place to "The Port of Ships,"
or "Columbus," by Joaquin Miller."--London Athenaeum.
RECESSIONAL--A VICTORIAN ODE
RUDYARD KIPLING
G.o.d of our fathers, known of old-- Lord of our far-flung battle line-- Beneath whose awful hand we hold Dominion over palm and pine-- Lord G.o.d of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget--lest we forget!
The tumult and the shouting dies-- The Captains and the Kings depart-- Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice, An humble and a contrite heart.
Lord G.o.d of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget--lest we forget!
Far-called, our navies melt away-- On dune and headland sinks the fire-- Lo, all our pomp of yesterday Is one with Nineveh and Tyre!
Judge of the Nations, spare us yet, Lest we forget--lest we forget!
If, drunk with sight of power, we loose Wild tongues that have not Thee in awe-- Such boasting as the Gentiles use, Or lesser breeds without the Law-- Lord G.o.d of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget--lest we forget!
For heathen heart that puts her trust In reeking tube and iron shard-- All valiant dust that builds on dust, And guarding calls not Thee to guard.
For frantic boast and foolish word, Thy Mercy on Thy People, Lord!
_Amen_.
Biographical and Historical: Rudyard Kipling was born Christmas Week, 1865, in Bombay. After school life in England, he returned to India at the age of seventeen, to do journalistic work. His tales of Indian. life and his ballads describing the life of the British soldier won immediate favor.
Perhaps he is best known to the boys and girls as the author of the Jungle Books. From 1892 to 1896 he lived in the United States. This poem, which appeared in 1897, at the time of the Queen"s Jubilee, struck a warning note against the arrogance of power.
A DEFINITION OF A GENTLEMAN