<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=391599" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Effigies</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Warrior! whose image on thy tomb,<br>With shield and crested head,<br>Sleeps proudly in the purple gloom<br>By the stain'd window shed;<br>The records of thy name and race<br>Have faded from the stone,<br>Yet, through a cloud of years, I trace<br>What thou hast been and done. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">A banner, from its flashing spear,<br>Flung out o'er many a fight;<br>A war-cry ringing far and clear,<br>And strong to turn the flight;<br>An arm that bravely bore the lance<br>On for the holy shrine;<br>A haughty heart and a kingly glance–<br>Chief! were not these things thine? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">A lofty place where leaders sate<br>Around the council-board;<br>In festive halls a chair of state<br>When the blood-red wine was pour'd;<br>A name that drew a prouder tone<br>From herald, harp, and bard;–<br>Surely these things were all thine own,–<br>So hadst thou thy reward.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Woman! whose sculptur'd form at rest<br>By the armed knight is laid,<br>With meek hands folded o'er a breast<br>In matron robes array'd;<br>What was thy tale?–Oh! gentle mate<br>Of him, the bold and free,<br>Bound unto his victorious fate,<br>What bard hath sung of thee? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">He woo'd a bright and burning star–<br>Thine was the void, the gloom,<br>The straining eye that follow'd far<br>His fast-receding plume;<br>The heart-sick listening while his steed<br>Sent echoes on the breeze;<br>The pang–but when did Fame take heed<br>Of griefs obscure as these? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thy silent and secluded hours<br>Thro' many a lonely day,<br>While bending o'er thy broider'd flowers,<br>With spirit far away;<br>Thy weeping midnight prayers for him<br>Who fought on Syrian plains,<br>Thy watchings till the torch grew dim–<br>These fill no minstrel strains. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">A still, sad life was thine!–long years<br>With tasks unguerdon'd fraught,<br>Deep, quiet love, submissive tears,<br>Vigils of anxious thought;<br>Prayer at the cross in fervour pour'd,<br>Alms to the pilgrim given–<br>Oh! happy, happier than thy lord,<br>In that lone path to heaven!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Felicia+Dorothea+Hemans">Felicia Dorothea Hemans</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=391599" data-title="The Effigies de Felicia Dorothea Hemans" data-description="Warrior! whose image on thy tomb, With shield and crested head, Sleeps proudly in the purple gloom By the stain'd window shed; The records of thy name and race Have faded from the stone, Yet, through a cloud of years, I trace What thou hast been a..."></div> </div> </div>

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