Classic and Contemporary Poetry
GREAT BELL ROLAND; SUGGESTED BY PRESIDENT'S CALL VOLUNTEERS, by THEODORE TILTON Poet's Biography First Line: Toll! Roland, toll! Last Line: Tool! Roland, toll! Subject(s): American Civil War; Soldiers; United States - History | ||||||||
I TOLL! Roland, toll! -- High in St. Bavon's tower, At midnight hour, The great bell Roland spoke, And all who slept in Ghent awoke. -- What meant its iron stroke? Why caught each man his blade? Why the hot haste he made? Why echoed every street With tramp of thronging feet -- All flying to the city's wall? It was the call Known well to all, That Freedom stood in peril of some foe: And even timid hearts grew bold Whenever Roland tolled, And every hand a sword could hold; -- For men Were patriots then, Three hundred years ago! II Toll! Roland, toll! Bell never yet was hung, Between whose lips there swung So true and brave a tongue! -- If men be patriots still, At thy first sound True hearts will bound, Great souls will thrill -- Then toll! and wake the test In each man's breast, And let him stand confess'd! III Toll! Roland, toll! -- Not in St. Bavon's tower At midnight hour, -- Nor by the Scheldt, nor far-off Zuyder Zee; But here -- this side the sea! -- And here in broad, bright day! Toll! Roland, toll! For not by night awaits A brave foe at the gates, But Treason stalks abroad -- inside! -- at noon! Toll! Thy alarm is not too soon! To arms! Ring out the Leader's call! Reecho it from East to West, Till every dauntless breast Swell beneath plume and crest! Toll! Roland, toll! Till swords from scabbards leap! Toll! Roland, toll! -- What tears can widows weep Less bitter than when brave men fall? Toll! Roland, toll! Till cottager from cottage-wall Snatch pouch and powder-horn and gun -- The heritage of sire to son, Ere half of Freedom's work was done! Toll! Roland, toll! Till son, in memory of his sire, Once more shall load and fire! Toll! Roland, toll! Till volunteers find out the art Of aiming at a traitor's heart! IV Toll! Roland, toll! -- St. Bavon's stately tower Stands to this hour, -- And by its side stands Freedom yet in Ghent; For when the bells now ring, Men shout, "God save the King!" Until the air is rent! -- Amen! -- So let it be; For a true king is he Who keeps his people free. Toll! Roland, toll! This side the sea! No longer they, but we, Have now such need of thee! Toll! Roland, toll! And let thy iron throat Ring out its warning note, Till Freedom's perils be outbraved, And Freedom's flag, wherever waved, Shall overshadow none enslaved! Toll! till from either ocean's strand, Brave men shall clasp each other's hand, And shout, "God save our native land!" -- And love the land which God hath saved! Tool! Roland, toll! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A VISIT TO GETTYSBURG by LUCILLE CLIFTON AFTER SPOTSYLVANIA COURT HOUSE by DAVID FERRY ACROSS THE LONG DARK BORDER by EDWARD HIRSCH WALT WHITMAN IN THE CIVIL WAR HOSPITALS by DAVID IGNATOW THE DAY OF THE DEAD SOLDIERS; MARY 30, 1869 by EMMA LAZARUS MANHATTAN, 1609 by EDWIN MARKHAM THE DECISION (APRIL 14, 1861) by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE SPARROW HARK IN THE RAIN (ALEXANDER STEPHENS HEARS NEWS) by EDGAR LEE MASTERS GOD SAVE THE NATION! by THEODORE TILTON |
|