Felicia Dorothea Hemans Poems

Know ye not when our dead
From sleep to battle sprung?
-When the Persian charger's tread
On their cowering greensward rung!
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The sun comes forth; each mountain height
Glows with a tinge of rosy light,
And flowers, that slumbered through the night,
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Mark vi. 47-51.

Fear was within the tossing bark,
When stormy winds grew loud;
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No cloud to dim the splendour of the day
Which breaks o'er Naples and her lovely bay,
And lights that brilliant sea and magic shore
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A song for the death-day of the brave
A song of pride!
The youth went down to a hero's grave,
With the sword, his bride.
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Thou shalt lie down
With patriarchs of the infant world with kings,
The powerful of the earth the wise the good,
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There was music on the midnight;
From a royal fane it roll'd,
And a mighty bell, each pause between,
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The Sea-king woke from the troubled sleep
Of a vision-haunted night,
And he look'd from his bark o'er the gloomy deep,
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THRONE of expression! whence the spirit's ray
Pours forth so oft the light of mental day,
Where fancy's fire, affection's melting beam,
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Hast thou a scene that is not spread
With records of thy glory fled?
A monument that doth not tell
The tale of liberty's farewell?
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