I left my low and humble home,
Far from my Father's fields to roam.
My peaceful cot no more had charms,
My only joy was War's alarms.
I panted for the field of fight,
I gaz'd upon the deathless light,
Which o'er the Hero's grave is shed,
The glorious memory of the dead.
Ambition show'd a distant star,
That shed its radiance bright and far,
And pointed to a path which led
O'er heaps of dying and of dead;
Onward I press'd with eager feet,
And War's dread thunder still would greet
My reckless ears. Where'er I trod,
I saw the green and verdant sod,
Turn red with blood of slaughter'd foes,
And Fury veil'd in smoke arose.
I gain'd the envied height; and there,
I sigh'd for that lone cottage, where
The early hours of life flew by,
On wings of youthful ecstasy.
Too late I found that Glory's ray,
Could never bring one happy day.
My favorite poet of all times, peowerful words and beautiful poem..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Give analysis please......