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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=472466" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>King’s Chapel</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">READ AT THE TWO HUNDREDTH ANNIVERSARY</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Is it a weanling's weakness for the past<br>That in the stormy, rebel-breeding town,<br>Swept clean of relics by the levelling blast,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Still keeps our gray old chapel's name of 'King's,'<br>Still to its outworn symbols fondly clings,--<br>Its unchurched mitres and its empty crown?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Poor harmless emblems! All has shrunk away<br>That made them gorgons in the patriot's eyes;<br>The priestly plaything harms us not to-day;<br>The gilded crown is but a pleasing show,<br>An old-world heirloom, left from long ago,<br>Wreck of the past that memory bids us prize,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Lightly we glance the fresh-cut marbles o'er;<br>Those two of earlier date our eyes enthrall:<br>The proud old Briton's by the western door,<br>And hers, the Lady of Colonial days,<br>Whose virtues live in long-drawn classic phrase,--<br>The fair Francesca of the southern wall.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ay! those were goodly men that Reynolds drew,<br>And stately dames our Copley's canvas holds,<br>To their old Church, their Royal Master, true,<br>Proud of the claim their valiant sires had earned,<br>That 'gentle blood,' not lightly to be spurned,<br>Save by the churl ungenerous Nature moulds.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">All vanished! It were idle to complain<br>That ere the fruits shall come the flowers must fall;<br>Yet somewhat we have lost amidst our gain,<br>Some rare ideals time may not restore,--<br>The charm of courtly breeding, seen no more,<br>And reverence, dearest ornament of all.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thus musing, to the western wall I came,<br>Departing: lo! a tablet fresh and fair,<br>Where glistened many a youth's remembered name<br>In golden letters on the snow-white stone,--<br>Young lives these aisles and arches once have known,<br>Their country's bleeding altar might not spare.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">These died that we might claim a soil unstained,<br>Save by the blood of heroes; their bequests<br>A realm unsevered and a race unchained.<br>Has purer blood through Norman veins come down<br>From the rough knights that clutched the Saxon's crown<br>Than warmed the pulses in these faithful breasts?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">These, too, shall live in history's deathless page,<br>High on the slow-wrought pedestals of fame,<br>Ranged with the heroes of remoter age;<br>They could not die who left their nation free,<br>Firm as the rock, unfettered as the sea,<br>Its heaven unshadowed by the cloud of shame.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">While on the storied past our memory dwells,<br>Our grateful tribute shall not be denied,--<br>The wreath, the cross of rustling immortelles;<br>And willing hands shall clear each darkening bust,<br>As year by year sifts down the clinging dust<br>On Shirley's beauty and on Vassall's pride.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But for our own, our loved and lost, we bring<br>With throbbing hearts and tears that still must flow,<br>In full-heaped hands, the opening flowers of spring,<br>Lilies half-blown, and budding roses, red<br>As their young cheeks, before the blood was shed<br>That lent their morning bloom its generous glow.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ah, who shall count a rescued nation's debt,<br>Or sum in words our martyrs' silent claims?<br>Who shall our heroes' dread exchange forget,--<br>All life, youth, hope, could promise to allure<br>For all that soul could brave or flesh endure?<br>They shaped our future; we but carve their names.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Oliver+Wendell+Holmes">Oliver Wendell Holmes</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=472466" data-title="King’s Chapel de Oliver Wendell Holmes" data-description="READ AT THE TWO HUNDREDTH ANNIVERSARY

Is it a weanling's weakness for the past
That in the stormy, rebel-breeding town,
Swept clean of relics by the levelling blast,

Still keeps our gray old chapel's name of 'King's,'
Still to its outworn symbol..."></div>
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