I go, but I return.The fiery furnace has no horrors for me.Mine is a race of martyrs. I can traceAncestors by the score who laid their headsUpon the axman's block. It is a little wayWe have. Why should I care to flauntMy feathered beauty on a bare November bough?I shall appear again in a far richer dressing.In years to come it will be said of me,As of my ancestors, that nothing in my lifeShed so much glory as the leaving of it.Full many a little child that nowIs prattling at its grandma's knee shall sayIn future years that of all days it holdsIn the most sacred memory the oneWhen it officiated atThe funeral of this Turk. And nowLest some one shall say I knew not how to die,Let the ax fall.
I go, but I return.The fiery furnace has no horrors for me.Mine is a race of martyrs. I can traceAncestors by the score who laid their headsUpon the axman's block. It is a little wayWe have. Why should I care to flauntMy feathered beauty on a bare November bough?I shall appear again in a far richer dressing.In years to come it will be said of me,As of my ancestors, that nothing in my lifeShed so much glory as the leaving of it.Full many a little child that nowIs prattling at its grandma's knee shall sayIn future years that of all days it holdsIn the most sacred memory the oneWhen it officiated atThe funeral of this Turk. And nowLest some one shall say I knew not how to die,Let the ax fall.
I go, but I return.
The fiery furnace has no horrors for me.
Mine is a race of martyrs. I can trace
Ancestors by the score who laid their heads
Upon the axman's block. It is a little way
We have. Why should I care to flaunt
My feathered beauty on a bare November bough?
I shall appear again in a far richer dressing.
In years to come it will be said of me,
As of my ancestors, that nothing in my life
Shed so much glory as the leaving of it.
Full many a little child that now
Is prattling at its grandma's knee shall say
In future years that of all days it holds
In the most sacred memory the one
When it officiated at
The funeral of this Turk. And now
Lest some one shall say I knew not how to die,
Let the ax fall.