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WEBSTER.
WEBSTER.
“When I and all those that hear me shall have gone to our last home, and when the mould may have gathered on our memories, as it will on our tombs:’’—Webster’s Speech in the Senate, July, 1850.
The mould upon thy memory!—No,
Not while one note is rung,
Of those divine, immortal songs
Milton and Shakspeare sung;—
Not till the night of years enshrouds
The Anglo-Saxon tongue.
Not while one note is rung,
Of those divine, immortal songs
Milton and Shakspeare sung;—
Not till the night of years enshrouds
The Anglo-Saxon tongue.
No! let the flood of Time roll on,
And men and empires die;—
Genius enthroned on lofty heights
Can its dread course defy,
And here on earth, can claim the gift
Of immortality:
And men and empires die;—
Genius enthroned on lofty heights
Can its dread course defy,
And here on earth, can claim the gift
Of immortality:
