Page:Poems, Volume 2, Coates, 1916.djvu/258

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242
EVERY NIGHT AT MARATHON

Who, for freedom, to the gods
Offered all they had;
Who in danger, Death defying,
Triumphed over Fate in dying,
For our gain—our gain!


Dæmons sentinel the field;
Venture thou not near,—
Neither seek those forms to view,
Nor those sounds to hear.
This enough for thee: they perish
Never!—whom the high gods cherish
One with life remain.