No
words the saga full to tell,
No voice the vict'ry song to sing,
No pen the epic to inscribe,
No chisel, brush. . . . .
The giant deeds
achieved
In answer to the nation's need,
Mirrored, stand but part revealed, --
Like sun, its form, the hue of it
Which man may aptly duplicate
But for its heat goes to the sun,
Sole, vivid master.
Thus unfolds the tale,
Reflections feeble, thin
Attenuated images
Remotely kin to gallant sons,
Living and dead, whose valiant strides
Outstrip all power to describe;
Model's meager replica,
Faint, unfully sung,
In wonder framed,
With pride retold.
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