Classic Poem

LYRICS FOR THE PEOPLE

No. VII.

" LET US DRINK TO THE BARDS . "

Let us drink to the Bards of our own native land,
The inspired, the humane, and the brave,
Who have touched the loud lyre with so mighty a hand,
That it thrills through the soul of the slave;
In the army of truth they have marched in the van,
A gifted and glorious band: —
Come, bring me the wine, let me drink like a man,
To the Bards of my dear native land.

When Shakespeare came down, like a god from the skies,
Such a light from his spirit he cast,
That he startled the world into love and surprise,
And quenched many stars of the past:
Every passion that sleeps in the depths of the mind
He hath melted and moved at command; —
Let us drink to the best of our country and kind, —
The Bards of our dear native land.

Then Milton arose, like a rocket of fire,
When the nation was buried in gloom,
And the garland he wreathed with the strings of the lyre,
Wore the hues of celestial bloom:
For freedom and glory, for virtue and truth,
He flung the proud tones from his hand: —
Let us drink to the sons of perpetual youth, —
The Bards of our dear native land.

There was Burns, who hath hallowed the mountains and streams, —
There was Byron, the stern and the strong;
There was Shelley, who lived in the purest of dreams,
There is Moore, the unshackled in song;
All, all have combined, with a wonderful power,
The heart and the soul to expand: —
Let us drink to the heirs of a heavenly dower, —
The Bards of our dear native land.