---

James Russell Lowell - Lines Suggested By The Graves Of Two English Soldiers On The Concord Battle-Ground
Work rating: Low

The same good blood that now refills
The dotard Orient`s shrunken veins,
The same whose vigor westward thrills,
Bursting Nevada`s silver chains,
Poured here upon the April grass,
Freckled with red the herbage new;
On reeled the battle`s trampling mass,
Back to the ash the bluebird flew.

Poured here in vain;--that sturdy blood
Was meant to make the earth more green,
But in a higher, gentler mood
Than broke this April noon serene;
Two graves are here: to mark the place,
At head and foot, an unhewn stone,
O`er which the herald lichens trace
The blazon of Oblivion.

These men were brave enough, and true
To the hired soldier`s bull-dog creed;
What brought them here they never knew,
They fought as suits the English breed:
They came three thousand miles, and died,
To keep the Past upon its throne:
Unheard, beyond the ocean tide,
Their English mother made her moan.

The turf that covers them no thrill
Sends up to fire the heart and brain;
No stronger purpose nerves the will,
No hope renews its youth again:
From farm to farm the Concord glides,
And trails my fancy with its flow;
O`erhead the balanced hen-hawk slides,
Twinned in the river`s heaven below.

But go, whose Bay State bosom stirs,
Proud of thy birth and neighbor`s right,
Where sleep the heroic villagers
Borne red and stiff from Concord fight;
Thought Reuben, snatching down his gun,
Or Seth, as ebbed the life away,
What earthquake rifts would shoot and run
World-wide from that short April fray?

What then? With heart and hand they wrought,
According to their village light;
`Twas for the Future that they fought,
Their rustic faith in what was right.
Upon earth`s tragic stage they burst
Unsummoned, in the humble sock;
Theirs the fifth act; the curtain first
Rose long ago on Charles`s block.

Their graves have voices; if they threw
Dice charged with fates beyond their ken,
Yet to their instincts they were true,
And had the genius to be men.
Fine privilege of Freedom`s host,
Of humblest soldiers for the Right!--
Age after age ye hold your post,
Your graves send courage forth, and might.
Source
The script ran 0.002 seconds.