Befire the Battle
By the hope within us springing,
Herald of to-morrow's strife;
By that sun, whose light is bringing
Chains or freedom, death or life --
Oh! remember life can be
No charm for him, who lives not free!
Like the day-star in the wave,
Sinks a hero in his grave,
'Midst the dew-fall of a nation's tears.
Happy is he o'er whose decline
The smiles of home may soothing shine,
And light him down the steep of years:
But oh, how blest they sink to rest,
Who close their eyes on victory's breast!
O'er his watch-fire's fading embers
Now the foeman's cheek turns white,
When his heart that field remembers,
Where we tamed his tyrant might.
Never let him bind again
A chain like that we broke from then.
Hark! the horn of combat calls --
Ere the golden evening falls,
May we pledge that horn in triumph round.
Many a heart that now beats high,
In slumber cold at night shall lie,
Nor waken even at victory's sound: --
But oh how blest that hero's sleep,
O'er whom a wondering world shall weep!
Thomas Moore's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Befire the Battle by Thomas Moore )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
((13 March 1941 – 9 August 2008)
(7 May 1861 – 7 August 1941)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(03 April 1964)
Harivansh Rai Bachchan
(27 November 1907 – 18 January 2003)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
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