Courage!-Nothing can withstand
Long a wronged, undaunted land ;
If the hearts within her be
True unto themselves and thee,
Thou freed giant, Liberty!
Oh! no mountain-nymph art thou,
When the helm is on thy brow,
And the sword is in thy hand,
Fighting for thy own good land !
Courage !-Nothing e'er withstood
Freemen fighting for their good;
Armed with all their father's fame,
They will win and wear a name,
That shall go to endless glory,
Like the Gods of old Greek story,
Raised to heaven and heavenly worth,
For the good they gave to earth.
Courage !—There is none so poor,
(None of all who wrong endure),
None so humble, none so weak,
But may flush his father's cheek;
And his maiden's dear and true,
With the deeds that he may do.
Be his days as dark as night,
He may make himself a light.
What though sunken be the sun!
There are stars when day is done!
Courage !--Who will be a slave,
That have strength to dig a grave,
And therein his fetters hide,
And lay a tyrant by his side?
Courage !-Hope, howe'er he fly
For a time, can never die !
Courage, therefore, brother men!
Cry “God! and to the fight again !".
But he his wonted pride Soon recollecting, with high words, that bore Semblance of worth not substance, gently rais'd Their fainting courage, and dispell’d their fears.
Milton
The brave man seeks not popular applause,
Nor overpower'd with arms, deserts his cause
Unsham'd, though foil'd he does the best he can,
Force is of brutes, but honour is of man.
Dryden.
WILFRID has fallen-but o'er him stood
Young Redmond, soiled with smoke and blood.
Cheering his mates, with heart and hand
Still to make good their desperate stand,
“Up, comrades, up! in Rokeby halls
Ne'er be it said our courage falls.-
What faint ye for their savage cry,
Or do the smoke-wreaths daunt your eye
These rafters have returned a shout
As loud at Rokeby's wassail rout;
As thick a smoke these hearths have given
At Hallowtide or Christmas even.
Stand to it yet! renew the fight,
For Rokeby and Matilda's right!
These slaves! they dare not, hand to hand,
Bide buffet from a true man's brand.
You must not think, That we are made of stuff so flat and dull, That we can let our beard be shook with danger And think it pastime.
Shakespeare.
I DETEST
That waiting ; though it seems so safe to fight
Behind high walls, and hurl down foes into
Deep fosses, or behold them sprawl on spikes
Strewed to receive them, still I like it not-
My soul seems lukewarm; but when I set on them
Though they were piled on mountains, I would
HOTSPUR'S IMPATIENCE FOR
BATTLE.
Let them come; 'They come like sacrifices in their turn, And to the fire-eyed maid of smoky war, All hot and bleeding will we offer them : The mailed Mars shall on his altar sit, Up to the ears in blood. I am on fire, To hear this rich reprisal is so nigh, And yet not ours :--Come, let me take my horse, Which is to bear me, like a thunder-bolt, Against the bosom of the prince of Wales : Harry to Harry shall, hot horse to horse, Meet, and ne'er part, till one drop down a corse.
What, though the field be lost,
All is not lost; th' ungovernable will,
And study of revenge, immortal hate,
And courage never to submit or yield,
And what is else not to be overcome;
That glory never shall his wrath or might
Extort from me.
Milton.
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