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The sword, the banner, and the field,
Glory and Greece, around me see! The Spartan, borne upon his shield,
Was not more free.
Roll on, my song, and to after ages
Tell how, disdaining all earth can give, He would have taught men, from wis
Awake! (not Greece — she is awake!) 25 Awake, my spirit ! Think through
whom Thy life-blood tracks its parent lake,
And then strike home! Tread those reviving passions down,
Unworthy manhood! unto thee
Of beauty be.
The land of honorable death
Away thy breath!
A soldier's grave, for thee the best; Then look around, and choose thy ground,
And take thy rest.
J. C. MANGAN
The way to live. And tell how, trampled, derided, hated, And worn by weakness, disease, and
wrong, He Aed for shelter to God, who mated
His soul with song With song which alway, sublime or vapid,
Flowed like a rill in the morning-beam, Perchance not deep, but intense and
A mountain stream. Tell how this Nameless, condemned for years long
25 To herd with demons from hell beneath, Saw things that made him, with groans
and tears, long
For even death. Go on to tell how, with genius wasted, Betrayed in friendship, befooled in love,
30 With spirit shipwrecked, and young hopes
He still, still strove; Till spent with toil, dreeing death for
others, And some whose hands should have
wrought for him (If children live for sires and
His mind grew dim; And he fell far through that pit abysmal, The gulf and grave of Maginn and
Burns, And pawned his soul for the devil's dis
Stock of returns; But yet redeemed it in days of darkness,
And shapes and signs of the final wrath, When death, in hideous and ghastly stark
Stood on his path.
THE NAMELESS ONE