The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1853-04-28
For the National Era
THE HERO.
BY JOHN G.. WHITTIER.

Without reproach or fear
My light glove on his casque OF steel,
My loye-knot on his spear
"0h for the white plume floating
Sad Zutphen's field above
The lion heart in battle,
The woman's heart in love
"Oh that man once more we're manly,
Womans pride, and not her scorn;
That once more the pale young mother
Dared TO boast, a man is born
but, now lifes slumberous current
No sun-bowd cascade wakes
No tall heroic manhood
The level dizziness breaks.
"0h for knight like Bayard,
Without reproach or fear!
My light glove on his casque of steel,
My love-knot on his spear !"
Then said, my own heart throbbing
To the time her proud pulse beat,
Life hath its regal natures yet
True, tender, brave, and sweet
"Smile not, fair unbeliever.
One man, at least know,
Who might wear the crest of Baysrd,
Or Sidney's plume of snow.
"0nce, when over purple mountains
Died AWAY the Greoian sun
And the far Cyllenian ranges
Paled and darkened, one by one
Fell the Turk bolt of thunder
Cleaving all the quiet sky
And against the sharp steel lightnings
Stood the Suiote but to die
"Woe for the weak and hating
The crescent blazed behind
A curving line of sabres,
Like fire before the wind
Last to fly and first to rally
Rode he Of whom | speak,
When, grooming, in his bridle-path
Sank down wounded Greek,
with the rich Albanian costume.
Wet with many CHASTITY stain.
Gazing on earth and sky as one
Who might not gaze again
"Hs looked forward to the mountains,
Back on foes that never spare,
Then flung him from his saddle,
And placed the stranger there.
Allah hu" Through flashing sabres,
Through stormy hail Of lead,
The good Thessalisn charger
Up the slopes of olives sped.
" Hot spurred the turbaned riders;
lie almost felt their breath,
Where mountain stream rolled darkiy down
Between the hills and death
lone brave and manful struggle
He gained the solid land,
And the cover of the mountains
And the carbines of his band -
1T was very great and noble,
Said the moist-eyed listener then,
But one brave deed makes no hero;
Tell me what he since hath been IVY
"Stll brave and generous manhood
Still an honor without stain,
In the prison-cell of Speilburg,
BY the barbados of Seine.
Dut 1raa,., hahn nd harnaoz
Sole sign of yalor true;
Peace hath sterner tests of manhood
Than battle ever knew.
With the Plague angel wrestling
For the secret of his wrath,
That from Ganges to the Nova
Had marked with graves his path.
"Would'st know him now Behold him,
The Cadmus of the blind,
Giving the dumb lip language,
The idiot clay mind.
Walking his round Of duty
serenely day by day,
With the strong man hand Of labor
And childhood heart of play.
True as tho knights Of story,
Sir Lancolot and his peers,
Brave in his calm endurance
As they in tilt of spears.
AS waves in stillest waters,
AZ stars in MONDAY skies,
All that wakes TO noble action
In his noon of camness lies
Wherever outraged Nature
Asks word OF action brave,
Wherever struggles labor,
Wherever groans n slave
Wherever rise the peoples,
Wherever sinks tho throne,
The throbbing heart of Freedom finds
An answer in his own.
Knight Of a better era,
Without reproach or foar
Said not well that Bayards
And sidneys still are hore' "