Poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

To William E. Channing

The pages of thy book I read,
   And as I closed each one,
My heart, responding, ever said,
   "Servant of God! well done!"

Well done! Thy words are great and bold;
   At times they seem to me,
Like Luther's, in the days of old,
   Half-battles for the free.

Go on, until this land revokes
   The old and chartered Lie,
The feudal curse, whose whips and yokes
   Insult humanity.

A voice is ever at thy side
   Speaking in tones of might,
Like the prophetic voice, that cried
   To John in Patmos, "Write!"

Write! and tell out this bloody tale;
   Record this dire eclipse,
This Day of Wrath, this Endless Wail,
   This dread Apocalypse!

1. Sunrise on the Hills
2. The Belfry of Bruges
3. The Beleaguered City
4. Hymn of the Moravian Nuns of Bethlehem
5. It Is Not Always May

Print

3545 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version