Of their great names I may record but few;
He who beholds the Ocean white with sails
And copies each confuses all the view,
        He paints too much - and fails.

His picture shows no high, emphatic light,
Its shadows in full mass refuse to fall,
And as its broken details meet the light
        Men turn it to the wall.

Of those great names but few may pass my lips,
For he who speaks of Salamis then sees
Not men who there commanded Grecian ships -
        But grand Themistocles!

Yet some I mark, and these discreetly take
To grace my verse through duty and design,
As one notes barks that leave the broadest wake
        Upon the stormy Brine.

These rise before me; and there Mason stands
The Constitution-maker firm and bold,
Like...

There was a time when it was counted high
    To be a patriot--whether by the zeal
    Of peaceful labour for the country's weal,
Or by the courage in her cause to die:

For King and Country was a rallying cry
    That turned men's hearts to fire, their nerves to steel;
    Not to unheeding ears did it appeal,
A pulpit formula, a platform lie.

Only a fool will wantonly desire
That war should come, outpouring blood and fire,
    And bringing grief and hunger in her train.
And yet, if there be found no other way,
God send us war, and with it send the day
    When love of country shall be real again!