Poems (Sherwin)/Stanza
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STANZA.
Oh! give me the spirit that ne'er was enslaved,
The mind which for freedom all hardships hath braved,
Too bold to be conquered—too proud to bow down,
Who never the yoke of submission hath known.
But the being so puerile to tremble or bend,
That in deepest affliction a murmur can send,
Oh, banish afar, and bring hither the heart,
That with all that is noble can still bear a part,
Still onward advance with an unflinching mind,
Yet ever be merciful, gentle and kind.
The mind which for freedom all hardships hath braved,
Too bold to be conquered—too proud to bow down,
Who never the yoke of submission hath known.
But the being so puerile to tremble or bend,
That in deepest affliction a murmur can send,
Oh, banish afar, and bring hither the heart,
That with all that is noble can still bear a part,
Still onward advance with an unflinching mind,
Yet ever be merciful, gentle and kind.