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loud praise of heroes. But I saw The blood-stain on their tablet. Then I marked A torrent rushing from its mountain height, Bearing the uptorn laurel, while its strength Among the arid sands of Vanity Did spend itself, and lo! a warning voice Sighed o'er the Ocean of Eternity, "Behold the warrior's glory." History came, Sublimely soaring on her wing of light, And many a name of palatine and peer, Monarch and prince on her proud scroll she bore, Blazoned by fame. But, 'mid the sea of time, Helmet, and coronet and diadem Rose boastful up, and shone, and disappeared, Like the white foam-crest on the tossing wave, Forgotten, while beheld. I heard a knell Toll slow amid the consecrated aisles Where slumber England's dead. A solemn dirge Broke forth amid the tomb of kings, and said That man was dust. And then a nation's tears Fell down like rain, for it was meet to mourn. But from the land of palm-trees, where doth flow Sweet incense forth from grove, and gum, and flower, Came richer tribute, breathing o'er that tomb A prostrate nation's thanks. Yes, Afric knelt, That mourning mother, and throughout the earth