Sunday, February 28, 2010

"Pheidippides" Robert Browning, 1879

So, when Persia was dust, all cried, "To Acropolis!

Run, Pheidippides, one race more! the meed is thy due!

Athens is saved, thank Pan, go shout!" He flung down his shield

Ran like fire once more: and the space 'twixt the fennel-field

And Athens was stubble again, a field which a fire runs through,

Till in he broke: "Rejoice, we conquer!" Like wine through clay,

Joy in his blood bursting his heart, - the bliss!

4 hours, 50 minutes

1 comment:

Briane P said...

So is that your time? I love the poem, and the Waugh quote.