The Hero's Legacy.

Upon the couch of death,
    The champion of the free,
Gave, with his parting breath,
    This solemn legacy:--
"Sheathed be the battle-blade,
    "And hushed the cannons' thunder:
"The glorious UNION GOD hath made,
    "Let no man put asunder!
"War banish from the land,
    "Peace cultivate with all!
"United you must stand,
    "Divided you will fall!
"Cemented with our blood,
    "The UNION keep unriven!"
While freemen heard this counsel good,
    His spirit soared to heaven.

George Pope Morris

George Pope Morris was an American editor, poet, and songwriter. Born on October 10, 1802, he made significant contributions to American literature and music. Morris co-founded and edited the New York Evening Mirror, where he published works by Edgar Allan Poe and others. He is perhaps best known for his song "Woodman, Spare That Tree!" and his role in the early 19th-century literary scene. Morris died on July 6, 1864, leaving behind a legacy of editorial and creative work that influenced many American writers and musicians.

George Pope Morris

Come to Me in Cherry-time.

George Pope Morris, Simple Poetry

The Dream of Love.

George Pope Morris, Simple Poetry

Au Revoir.

George Pope Morris, Simple Poetry

The Fallen Brave.

George Pope Morris, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

Champions of Liberty.

The pride of all our chivalry,
    The name of Worth will stand,
While throbs the pulse of liberty
    Within his native land:
The wreath his brow was formed to wear,
A nation's tears will freshen there.

The young companion of his fame,
    In war and peace allied,
With garlands woven round his name,
    Reposes at his side:
Duncan, whose deeds for evermore
Will live amid his cannon's roar.

Gates, in his country's quarrel bold,
    When she to arms appealed,
Sought like the Christian knights of old,
    His laurels on the field:
Where victory rent the welkin-dome,
He earned--a sepulchre at home.

The drum-beat of the bannered brave,
    The requiem and the knell,
The volley o'er the soldier's grave,
    His comrades' l...

George Pope Morris

A Hero of the Revolution.

Let not a tear be shed!
    Of grief give not a token,
Although the silver thread
    And golden bowl be broken!
A warrior lived--a Christian died!
Sorrow's forgotten in our pride!

Go, bring his battle-blade,
    His helmet and his plume!
And be his trophies laid
    Beside him in the tomb,
Where files of time-marked veterans come
With martial tramp and muffled drum!

Give to the earth his frame,
    To moulder and decay;
But not his deathless name--
    That can not pass away!
In youth, in manhood, and in age,
He dignified his country's page!

Green be the willow-bough
    Above the swelling mound,
Where sleeps the hero now
    In consecrated ground:
Thy epitaph, O Delavan!
God's noblest work--an honest man!

George Pope Morris

Seventy-Six.

Before the Battle.


The clarion call of liberty
    Rings on the startled gales!
The rising hills reverberate
    The rising of the vales!
Through all the land the thrilling shout
    Swift as an arrow goes!
Columbia's champions arm and out
    To battle with her foes!


After the Battle


The bugle-song of victory
    Is vocal in the air!
The strains, by warrior-voices breathed,
    Are echoed by the fair!
The eagle, with the wreath, blood-bought,
    Soars proudly to the sun,
Proclaiming the "good fight is fought,
    And the great victory won!"

George Pope Morris

Grant's Dirge

I

Ah, who shall sound the hero's funeral march?
And what shall be the music of his dirge?
No single voice may chant the Nation's grief,
No formal strain can give its woe relief.
The pent-up anguish of the loyal wife,
The sobs of those who, nearest in this life,
Still hold him closely in the life beyond; -
These first, with threnody of memories fond.
But look! Forth press a myriad mourners thronging,
With hearts that throb in sorrow's exaltation,
Moved by a strange, impassioned, hopeless longing
To serve him with their love's last ministration.
Make way! Make way, from wave-bound verge to verge
Of all our land, that this great multitude
With lamentation proud albeit subdued,
Deep murmuring like the ocean's mighty surge,
May pass beneath the heavens' ...

George Parsons Lathrop

The Sword and the Staff

The sword of the hero!
    The staff of the sage!
Whose valor and wisdom
    Are stamped on the age!
Time-hallowed mementos
    Of those who have riven
The sceptre from tyrants,
    "The lightning from heaven!"

This weapon, O Freedom!
    Was drawn by the son,
And it never was sheathed
    Till the battle was won!
No stain of dishonor
    Upon it we see!
'Twas never surrendered--
    Except to the free!

While Fame claims the hero
    And patriot sage,
Their names to emblazon
    On History's page,
No holier relics
    Will liberty hoard
Than FRANKLIN's staff, guarded
    By WASHINGTON's sword.

George Pope Morris

The Lee Memorial Ode.

"Great Mother of great Commonwealths"
Men call our Mother State:
And she so well has earned this name
That she may challenge Fate
To snatch away the epithet
Long given her of "great."

First of all Old England's outposts
To stand fast upon these shores
Soon she brought a mighty harvest
To a People's threshing floors,
And more than golden grain was piled
Within her ample doors.

Behind her stormy sunrise shone,
Her shadow fell vast and long,
And her mighty Adm'ral, English Smith,
Heads a prodigous throng
Of as mighty men, from Raleigh down,
As ever arose in song.

Her names are the shining arrows
Which her ancient quiver bears,
And their splendid sheaf has thickened
Through the long march of the years,
While her grea...

James Barron Hope