To ---- V (Botta)
by Anne Lynch Botta English
In the noble army of Reform
Thou art a pioneer;
And bravely wields thy good right arm,
The broadsword and the spear.
Thou may'st not see the battle's close,
The victory may'st not win:
But the scars upon thy spirit prove,
Thou has not lived in vain.
More poems by Anne Lynch Botta
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Throw open, once again,
The portals of the tomb;
And give, among the glorious dead, …
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There was a fountain in my heart
Whose deeps had not been stirred;
A thirst for music in my soul …
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The city is dreary and dusty and lone,
The Smiths and the Joneses and Jenkinses gone;
The doors are all barred, and the shutters all down, …
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"Even in our ashes live their wonted fires."
Bury me by the sea,
When on my heart the hand of Death is press'd. …
All poems by Anne Lynch Botta →