Classic Poem

Fear not the shadow! Open, lofty gate,
Thy door of bronze, thy door of iron straight.
Deep in a well men have cast down the key,
Accursed thou if terror closes thee;
Sever with keen and double-edged blade
Hands that have shut thee and that have betrayed
For under thy dark vault rank forth the feet
Of marching men who never saw retreat,
And in their midst, poised nobly and old,
Went naked Victory with wings of gold,
And with calm wave of sword their banners led
Upon their lips her ardent kisses bled,
And at their crimson mouths the trumpets rang
With murmurs of fierce bees and copper clang!
Wild swarms of war, from hives of armor go,
Pluck from ripe flesh the flowers of death that glow,
And if ye to these native walls return,
See that upon thy marble threshold burn,
When beneath Victory's wings has passed your tread,
Stains of clear blood from sandals steeped in red.