William Gilmore Simms (Уильям Гилмор Симмс)
The Decay of a People
THIS the true sign of ruin to a race — It undertakes no march, and day by day Drowses in camp, or, with the laggard’s pace, Walks sentry o’er possessions that decay; Destined, with sensible waste, to fleet away; — For the first secret of continued power Is the continued conquest; — all our sway Hath surety in the uses of the hour; If that we waste, in vain walled town and lofty tower!
William Gilmore Simms’s other poems:
884