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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420711" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Hero</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">'O for a knight like Bayard,<br>Without reproach or fear;<br>My light glove on his casque of steel,<br>My love-knot on his spear!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'O for the white plume floating<br>Sad Zutphen's field above, <br>The lion heart in battle,<br>The woman's heart in love!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'O that man once more were manly,<br>Woman's pride, and not her scorn<br>That once more the pale young mother<br>Dared to boast `a man is born'!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'But, now life's slumberous current<br>No sun-bowed cascade wakes;<br>No tall, heroic manhood<br>The level dulness breaks.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'O for a knight like Bayard,<br>Without reproach or fear!<br>My light glove on his casque of steel<br>My love-knot on his spear!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then I said, my own heart throbbing<br>To the time her proud pulse beat,<br>'Life hath its regal natures yet,-<br>True, tender, brave, and sweet!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Smile not, fair unbeliever!<br>One man, at least, I know,<br>Who might wear the crest of Bayard<br>Or Sydney's plume of snow.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Once, when over purple mountains<br>Died away the Grecian sun,<br>And the far Cyllenian ranges<br>Paled and darkened, one by one,-</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Fell the Turk, a bolt of thunder,<br>Cleaving all the quiet sky,<br>And against his sharp steel lightnings<br>Stood the Suliote but to die.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Woe for the weak and halting!<br>The crescent blazed behind<br>A curving line of sabres<br>Like fire before the wind!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Last to fly, and first to rally,<br>Rode he of whom I speak,<br>When, groaning in his bridle path,<br>Sank down like a wounded Greek.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'With the rich Albanian costume<br>Wet with many a ghastly stain,<br>Gazing on earth and sky as one<br>Who might not gaze again!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'He looked forward to the mountains,<br>Back on foes that never spare,<br>Then flung him from his saddle,<br>And place the stranger there.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">''Allah! hu!' Through flashing sabres,<br>Through a stormy hail of lead,<br>The good Thessalian charger<br>Up the slopes of olives sped.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Hot spurred the turbaned riders;<br>He almost felt their breath,<br>Where a mountain stream rolled darkly down<br>Between the hills and death.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'One brave and manful struggle,-<br>He gained the solid land,<br>And the cover of the mountains,<br>And the carbines of his band!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'It was very great and noble,'<br>Said the moist-eyed listener then,<br>'But one brave deed makes no hero;<br>Tell me what he since hath been!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Still a brave and generous manhood,<br>Still and honor without stain,<br>In the prison of the Kaiser,<br>By the barricades of Seine.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'But dream not helm and harness<br>The sign of valor true;<br>Peace bath higher tests of manhood<br>Than battle ever knew.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Wouldst know him now? Behold him,<br>The Cadmus of the blind,<br>Giving the dumb lip language,<br>The idiot clay a mind.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Walking his round of duty<br>Serenely day by day,<br>With the strong man's hand of labor<br>And childhood's heart of play.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'True as the knights of story,<br>Sir Lancelot and his peers,<br>Brave in his calm endurance<br>As they in tilt of spears.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'As waves in stillest waters,<br>As stars in noonday skies,<br>All that wakes to noble action<br>In his noon of calmness lies.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Wherever outraged Nature<br>Asks word or action brave,<br>Wherever struggles labor,<br>Wherever groans a slave,-</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Wherever rise the peoples,<br>Wherever sinks a throne,<br>The throbbing heart of Freedom finds <br>An answer in his own.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Knight of a better era,<br>Without reproach or fear!<br>Said I not well that Bayards<br>And Sidneys still are here?</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Greenleaf+Whittier">John Greenleaf Whittier</a><div class=q>
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<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=420711" data-title="The Hero de John Greenleaf Whittier" data-description="'O for a knight like Bayard,
Without reproach or fear;
My light glove on his casque of steel,
My love-knot on his spear!

'O for the white plume floating
Sad Zutphen's field above, 
The lion heart in battle,
The woman's heart in love!

'O that man..."></div>
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