Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE CROWNED REPUBLIC, by ROBERT UNDERWOOD JOHNSON Poet's Biography First Line: Forgive us, italy, who have loved thee long Last Line: Without, within -- that dare the gates of freedom close. Subject(s): Italy; Italians | ||||||||
I FORGIVE us, Italy, who have loved thee long, Daughter of Beauty, Cynosure of Song, That we who knew thee fair should not have known thee strong. For Beauty is no weakling, taking odds From earthly Power and cringing at its nods, But giver of sovereign laws to immemorial gods. She is no mere contriver of design, Of thrilling color or uplifting line; She sings within the soul a music all divine. And when she sets the ardent youth aflame With duty, brooking no unworthy aim, She is but Justice honored by another name. II We should have read the roster of thy great Who from mismated fragments inchoate The fair mosaic made of thine harmonious state; Alike in nothing but in love of thee While thou wert yet a dream of Liberty, They gave thee all they were and all they hoped to be: -- He of Savoy, first man and then a king; He of Caprera, armed with David's sling; He of Turin, who won with wise imagining; He of the Tuscan vineyards, firm as steel; And he of Genoa, priest of the common weal, And he whose voice to Venice was a tocsin-peal. O land for whom thy sons were fain to die As lovers are to live! No obloquy Their secrets could unlock, their purpose turn awry. In thy deep dungeons Freedom grew to might, Nourished by darkness as the rose by light. Would tyrants conquer Thought: they must abolish Night. Behind the bars where Settembrini dwelt, Beside the chains whose scars Poerio felt, Above the beds bereaved where dauntless women knelt, Thine image, as in Dante's vision, shone -- The Italy that some day would be one, When alien yoke was cleft and cruel sands were run. III Now, when the old oppressor of thy land Had weakly chosen by his side to stand Who holds the torch and bribe in either treacherous hand, Thought they to fright thee by war's awful price, Or silence thee by lure of paradise -- Thee with thy glorious ancestry of sacrifice? Forgive us, we were over-slow to scan The incredible cunning of the monstrous plan Whereby the spider State has set its web for Man; But fallen are the scales, and now our heart That with thee stormed the startled Alps, takes part With glad and welcome aid from mint and mine and mart. And, haply, on thy waves our ships may dare The iron shark within his stealthy lair Till the freed seas forget what late was their despair. Oh, fortunate if our torn flag be found Comrade of thine on some embattled ground Thenceforth by Garibaldi's memory made renowned. What name in all thine epic history But his to summon us and trumpet thee -- Who found his foster land what thou wert born to be! Pillar of cloud and fire, his spirit soar'th Above thy eager legions pressing forth And cheers them on to save their brothers of the North. O Crowned Republic, let us be of those Who know and conquer all the people's foes -- Without, within -- that dare the gates of Freedom close. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...1851: A MESSAGE TO DENMARK HILL by RICHARD HOWARD TONIGHT THE HEART-SHAPED LEAVES by JAN HELLER LEVI JEWISH GRAVEYARDS, ITALY by PHILIP LEVINE SAILING HOME FROM RAPALLO by ROBERT LOWELL SUNLIGHT AND SHADOW by LISEL MUELLER HOW DUKE VALENTINE CONTRIVED by BASIL BUNTING FRAGMENTS FROM ITALY: 1 by JOHN CIARDI AN ENGLISH MOTHER by ROBERT UNDERWOOD JOHNSON |
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