Explore "Trafalgar Day" by Edith Nesbit on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Laurels, bring laurels, sheaves on sheaves, / Till England's boughs are bare of leaves! / Soon comes the flower more rare, more dear / Than any laurel this year weaves -- / The Aloe of the hundredth year / Since from the smoke of Trafalgar / He passed to where the heroes are, / Nelson, who passed and yet is here, / Whose dust is fire beneath our feet, / Whose memory mans our fleet.
Laurels, bring laurels, since they hold / His England's tears in each green fold, / His England's joy, his England's pride, / His England's glories manifold.
Yet what was Victory since he died? / And what was Death since he lives yet, / Above a Nation's worship set, / Above her heroes glorified? -- / Nelson, who made our flag a star / To lead where Victories are!