VI. <br />No trump tells thy virtues—the grave where they rest <br />With thy dust shall remain unpolluted by fame, <br />Till thy foes, by the world and by fortune caressed, <br />Shall pass like a mist from the light of thy name. <br /> <br />VII. <br />When the storm-cloud that lowers o'er the day-beam is gone, <br />Unchanged, unextinguished its life-spring will shine; <br />When Erin has ceased with their memory to groan, <br />She will smile through the tears of revival on thine.<br /><br />Percy Bysshe Shelley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/on-robert-emmet-s-grave/
