Samuel Hardman

Prospect's Yard - Poem by Samuel Hardman

In Prospect's Yard nothing grows
But sobs and bitter tears:
There stalwart lads lie below
Monuments of shame and fear.

Sing a New Song in The City of God,
Sounding brass and tinkling cymbals:
You sons and daughters of Nod,
Sing loudly and tremble!

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, July 12, 2007

Poem Edited: Sunday, March 20, 2011

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