The Dying Patriot

Sleep not, my country: though night is here, afar
Your children of the morning are clamorous for war:
Fire in the night, O dreams!
   Though she send you as she sent you, long ago,
   South to desert, east to ocean, west to snow,
West of these out to seas colder than the Hebrides I must go
   Where the fleet of stars is anchored and the young Star-captains glow.
-copied from here.