Best Poem of Ebenezer Elliott

Battle Song
DAY, like our souls, is fiercely dark;
   What then? 'Tis day!
We sleep no more; the cock crows--hark!
   To arms! away!
They come! they come! the knell is rung
   Of us or them;
Wide o'er their march the pomp is flung
   Of gold and gem. . . .
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To The Bramble Flower
Thy fruit full well the schoolboy knows,
Wild bramble of the brake!
So put thou forth thy small white rose;
I love it for his sake.
Thou woodbines flaunt and roses glow
O'er all the fragrant bowers,
Thou need'st not be ashamed to show
Thy satin-threaded flowers;
For dull the eye, the heart is dull,
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