Our Last Grand Camping Ground
Henry Clay Work 1832 (Middletown, Connecticut) – 1884 (Hartford, Connecticut)
On a pebly shore, where forevermore
Gently creeps a music laden wave --
In the meadows green, which beyond are seen,
Camps a conq'ring army, true and brave.
Shining are the weapons of this martial throng --
Crimson died their banner, battleworn so long;
But now they cast them down, and each receives a crown,
Whey they chant their never ending song:
"Our Saviour and our King!
His victories shall ring!
His conquests thro' eternity shall sound!
(And war shall be no)
War (more) shall be no more --
we have reach'd the shore --
Safely reach'd our last grand camping ground."
While thro' lovely dells, grander music swells --
Richer chords from rarer harps of gold --
List that soft refrain, that sweet vocal strain,
Wherein now the victors' deeds are told:
How they toil'd in darkness, battling the wrong --
How, in hours of weakness, Jesus made them strong.
Acknowledg'd as his own he seats them on his throne,
While they join the never ending song.
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 52 sec read
- 52 Views
Quick analysis:
Scheme | ABXBCCXC DDEXAAE XFXFCCXC |
---|---|
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 936 |
Words | 171 |
Stanzas | 3 |
Stanza Lengths | 8, 7, 8 |
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"Our Last Grand Camping Ground" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 25 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/17280/our-last-grand-camping-ground>.
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