A BALLAD OF HEROES.
O conquerors and heroes, say-
Great Kings and Captains tell me this,
Now that you rest beneath the clay
What profit lies in victories?
Do softer flower-roots twine and kiss
The whiter bones of Charlemain?
Our crownless heads sleep sweet as his,
Now all your victories are in vain.
All ye who fell that summer's day
When Athens lost Amphipolis,
Who blinded by the briny spray
Fell dead i' the sea at Salamis,
You captors of Thyreatis,
Who bear yourselves a heavier chain,
With your young brother, Bozzaris,
Now all your victories are in vain.
And never Roman armies may
Rouse Hannibal where now he is,
When Cæsar makes no king obey,
And fast asleep lies Lascaris;
Who fears the Goths or Khan-Yenghiz?
Not one of all the paynim train
Can taunt us with Nicopolis,
Now all your victories are in vain.
What reck you Spartan heroes, pray,
Of Arcady or Argolis?
When one barbarian boy to-day
Would fain be king of all of Greece.
Brave knights, you would not stir I wis,
Altho' the very Cross were ta'en;
Not Rome itself doth Cæsar miss,
Now all your victories are in vain.
Envoy.
O kings, bethink how little is
The good of battles or the gain—
Death conquers all things with his peace
Now all your victories are in vain.
A. Mary F. Robinson.