I took the Sabbath off yesterday, and so today I will be posting two poems. I'll start off with one by a great poet of the past, and then later today I'll post one of my own.
What are your feelings when you read this well known poem? To me this piece by Sir Walter Scott says that, if I can't say that I loved and stood up my country and all it stands for, anything else I achieve will matter very little in the grand scheme of things.
Whatever your nationality or political affiliation, I encourage you to use this day as one to ponder what makes you country special, and to thank God above for giving you a nation to call home.
God bless us, everyone!
Breathes there the man, with soul so dead,
Who never to himself hath said,
This is my own, my native land?
Whose heart hath ne’er within him burn’d,
As home his footsteps he hath turn’d,
From wandering on a foreign strand?
If such there breathe, go, mark him well;
For him no Minstrel raptures swell.
High though his titles, proud his name,
Boundless his wealth as wish can claim;
Despite those titles, power, and pelf,
The wretch, concentred all in self,
Living, shall forfeit fair renown,
And, doubly dying, shall go down
To the vile dust, from whence he sprung,
Unwept, unhonor’d, and unsung.
Sir Walter Scott
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