To The Young. Translations. After Heine.
Let your feet not falter, your course not alter By golden apples, till victory's won! The sword's sharp clangour, the dart's shrill anger, Swerve not the hero thundering on. A bold beginning is half the winning, An Alexander makes worlds his fee. No long debating! The Queens are waiting In his pavilion on beaded knee. Thus swift pursuing his wars and wooing, He mounts old Darius' bed and throne. O glorious ruin! O blithe undoing! O drunk death-triumph in Babylon!
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"Let your feet not falter, your course not alter..."
"To The Young. Translations. After Heine." is a quintessential example of John Milton Hay's signature style... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...