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1839–1886

A Land without Ruins

Abram Joseph Ryan

Yes give me the land where the ruins are spread, And the living tread light on the hearts of the dead; Yes, give me a land that is blest by the dust, And bright with the deeds of the down-trodden just.

Yes, give me the land where the battle's red blast Has flashed to the future the fame of the past; Yes, give me the land that hath legends and lays That tell of the memories of long vanished days;

Yes, give me a land that hath story and song! Enshrine the strife of the right with the wrong! Yes, give me a land with a grave in each spot, And names in the graves that shall not be forgot;

Yes, give me the land of the wreck and the tomb; There is grandeur in graves — there is glory in gloom; For out of the gloom future brightness is born, As after the night comes the sunrise of morn;

And the graves of the dead with the grass overgrown May yet form the footstool of liberty's throne, And each single wreck in the war path of might Shall yet be a rock in the temple of right.

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A Land without Ruins · Abram Joseph Ryan · Poetry Cove