WHY linger round the sunken wrecks <br />Where old Armadas found their graves? <br />Why slumber on the sleepy decks <br />While foam and clash the angry waves? <br />Up! when the storm-blast rends the clouds, <br />And winged with ruin sweeps the gale, <br />Young feet must climb the quivering shrouds, <br />Young hands must reef the bursting sail! <br /> <br />Leave us to fight the tyrant creeds <br />Who felt their shackles, feel their scars; <br />The cheerful sunlight little heeds <br />The brutes that prowled beneath the stars; <br />The dawn is here, the day star shows <br />The spoils of many a battle won, <br />But sin and sorrow still are foes <br />That face us in the morning sun. <br /> <br />Who sleeps beneath yon bannered mound <br />The proudly sorrowing mourner seeks, <br />The garland-bearing crowd surrounds? <br />A light-haired boy with beardless cheeks! <br />'T is time this 'fallen world' should rise; <br />Let youth the sacred work begin! <br />What nobler task, what fairer prize <br />Than earth to save and Heaven to win?<br /><br />Oliver Wendell Holmes<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/youth-42/
