<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=115121" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>On a picture of Harvey Birch</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I know not if thy noble worth<br> My country's annals claim,<br> For in her brief, bright history<br> I have not read thy name.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> I know not if thou e'er didst live;<br> Save in the vivid thought<br> Of him who chronicled thy life,<br> With silent suffering fraught.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Yet, in thy history I see<br> Full many a great soul's lot;<br> Who joins that martyr-army's ranks,<br> That the world knoweth not;---</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Who cannot weep "melodious tears,"<br> For fame or sympathy;<br> But who, in silence, bear their doom,<br> To suffer and to die;---</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> For whom no poet's harp is struck,<br> No laurel wreath is twined;<br> Who pass unheard---unknown, away,<br> And leave no trace behind;---</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Who, but for their unwavering trust<br> In Justice, Truth, and God,<br> Would faint upon their weary way,<br> And perish by the road.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Truth, Justice, God! Oh mighty faith,<br> To bear us up unharmed;<br> The gates of Hell may not prevail<br> Against a soul so armed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Anne+Lynch+Botta">Anne Lynch Botta</a> from <i>Poems</i><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=115121" data-title="On a picture of Harvey Birch de Anne Lynch Botta" data-description="I know not if thy noble worth/ My country's annals claim,/ For in her brief, bright history/ I have not read thy name./ I know not if thou e'er didst live;/ Save in the vivid thought/ Of him who chronicled thy life,/ With silent suffering frau..."></div> </div> </div>

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