How Sleep the Brave
William Collins
How sleep the brave, who sink to rest
By all their country’s wishes blest!
When Spring, with dewy fingers cold,
Returns to deck their hallow’d mould,
She there shall dress a sweeter sod
Than Fancy’s feet have ever trod.
By fairy hands their knells is rung;
By forms unseen their dirges sung;
There Honour comes, a pilgrim grey,
To bless the turf that wraps their clay;
And Freedom shall while repair
To dwell, a weeping hermit, there!
This is one of my favorite paintings portraying energy. You can feel the rising hope of the soldiers surrounding Libertas.
It’s interesting to see how Greco-Roman culture has influenced so much of Western society even to this day.
I have been reading the journal I wrote when I was seven years old, and my predominant thought is, ‘I am still me.’ I think it is the same when we read good history books: ‘We are still us.’