<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=118423" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Peschiera</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">What voice did on my spirit fall,<br>Peschiera, when thy bridge I crost?<br>‘’Tis better to have fought and lost,<br>Than never to have fought at all.’</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The tricolor, a trampled rag<br>Lies, dirt and dust; the lines I track<br>By sentry boxes yellow-black,<br>Lead up to no Italian flag.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I see the Croat soldier stand<br>Upon the grass of your redoubts;<br>The eagle with his black wings flouts<br>The breath and beauty of your land.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet not in vain, although in vain,<br>O’ men of Brescia, on the day<br>Of loss past hope, I heard you say<br>Your welcome to the noble pain.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">You say, ‘Since so it is, good bye<br>Sweet life, high hope; but whatsoe’er<br>May be, or must, no tongue shall dare<br>To tell, “The Lombard feared to die!”’</div><div style="margin:10px 0">You said (there shall be answer fit),<br>‘And if our children must obey,<br>They must; but thinking on this day<br>’Twill less debase them to submit.’</div><div style="margin:10px 0">You said (Oh not in vain you said),<br>‘Haste, brothers, haste, while yet we may;<br>The hours ebb fast of this one day<br>When blood may yet be nobly shed.’</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ah! not for idle hatred, not<br>For honour, fame, nor self-applause,<br>But for the glory of the cause,<br>You did, what will not be forgot.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And though the stranger stand, ’tis true,<br>By force and fortune’s right he stands;<br>By fortune, which is in God’s hands,<br>And strength, which yet shall spring in you.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">This voice did on my spirit fall,<br>Peschiera, when thy bridge I crost,<br>‘’Tis better to have fought and lost,<br>Than never to have fought at all.’</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Arthur+Hugh+Clough">Arthur Hugh Clough</a><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=118423" data-title="Peschiera de Arthur Hugh Clough" data-description="What voice did on my spirit fall,/Peschiera, when thy bridge I crost?/‘’Tis better to have fought and lost,/Than never to have fought at all.’/The tricolor, a trampled rag/Lies, dirt and dust; the lines I track/By sentry boxes yellow-black,/..."></div> </div> </div>

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