The Portland daily press., 1876-01-14
POETRY.
The Hero.
BY JOHN G. WHITTIER.

This poem by Mr.. Whittier is of peculi;
Iterest now in view of the death of DR.. Samu
!. Howe, whose praises it sings.]
"Oh, for knight like Bayard,
Without reproach or fear;
My light glove on his casque of steel,
My love knot on his spear!
s'Oh, for the white plume floating,
Sad Zutphen's field above
The lions heart in battle,
The woman's heart in love!
"Oh, that man once mere were manly,
Wonan's pride and not her scorn!
That once more the pale young mother
Dared to boast "a man Is born?
"But now life's slumbrous current
No sun-bov ed cascade wakes;
No tall, heroic manhood
The level dulneSs breaks.
"Oh. for knight like Bayard,
Without repGQach or fear;
My light glove On his casque of steel,
My love-knot on his spearp
Then | said, my own heart throbbing
To the tune her proud pulse beat;
"Life hath its regal natures yet,
True, tender, brave and sweet.
'Smile not, fair unbe.iever-
One man at least know,
Who might wear the crest Of Bayard.
Or Sidney's plume Of snow.
'once, when over purple mountains,
Died away the Grecian sun,
And the far Cyllenisn ranges
Paled and darkened one by one,
"Fell the Turk. bolt Of thunder
Cleaving all the.quiet sky.
And against his sharp steel lightnings
Stood the Suliote but to die.
"Woe for the weak and hating!
The crescent blaZed behind
A eurying line of sabres
Like fire before the wind.
last to fly and first to rally,
Rode he Of whom 1 speak.
When groaning in his bridle-path
Sank down a wounded Greek
"With the rich Albanian costume
Wet with many CHASTITY stain;
Gazing on earth and sky as one
Who might not gaze again.
"He looked forward to the mountains,
Back ON foes that never spare,
Then flung him from his saddle
And placed the stranger there.
.Allahi hu! thro' flashing sabres,
Tho stormy hail of lead,
The good Thessalian charger
Up the slopes OF olives sped.
''Hot spurred the turbaned riders,
He almost felt their breath,
Where mountain stream rolled darkly down
Between the hills and death.
zone brave and manful struggle!
He gained the solid land,
And the cover of the mountains
And the carbines of his band"
sit 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.'
"Still a brave and generous manhe1d,
Still an honor without stain,
In the prison of the Kaiser,
By the barricades of Seine.
"But dream not helm and harness
Sole sign of valor true,
Peace hath higher tests of manhood
Than battle ever knew.
"Wouldst know him now? Behold him,
The Cadmus of the blind,
Giving the dumb lip language,
The idiot clay mind.
"walkiDg his round of duty
Serenely day by day,
With the strong mans hand of labor,
Aud childhood's heart of play.
"True as the knights of story,
Sir Launcelot and his peers;
Brave in his calm endurance,
As they in tilt Of spears.
GAS waves in stillest waters,
AS stars in mondays skies,
All that wakes to noble action
In his noon Of calmness lies.
"Wherever outraged nature
Ask word or action brave,
Wherever struggles labor,
Wherever groans slave,
"Wherever rise the people,
Wherever sinks throne,
The throbbing heart of Freedom finds
An answer in his own.
"Kpight of better era.
Without reproach or fear.
Said not well that Bayards
And Sidneys still are here?"