Oh, the sight entrancing, <br />When morning's beam is glancing <br />O'er files array'd <br />With helm and blade, <br />And plumes in the gay wind dancing! <br />When hearts are all high beating <br />And the trumpet's voice repeating <br />That song, whose breath <br />May lead to death, <br />But never to entreating. <br />Oh, the sight entrancing, <br />When morning's beam is glancing <br />O'er files array'd <br />With helm and blade, <br />And plumes in the gay wind dancing! <br /> <br />Yet, tis not helm or feather -- <br />For ask yon despot, whether <br />His plumed bands <br />Could bring such hands <br />And hearts as ours together. <br />Leave pomps to those who need 'em -- <br />Give man but heart and freedom, <br />And proud he braves <br />The gaudiest slaves <br />That crawl where monarchs lead 'em. <br />The sword may pierce the beaver, <br />Stonewalls in time may sever, <br />'Tis mind alone, <br />Worth steel and stone, <br />That keeps men free for ever. <br />Oh, that sight entrancing, <br />When the morning's beam is glancing, <br />O'er files array'd <br />With helm and blade, <br />And in Freedom's cause advancing!<br /><br />Thomas Moore<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/oh-the-sight-entrancing/
