 | Songs Old and New |  |
III.
He woke. The world of faëry,
With its soft and gorgeous light,
Was dissolved and gone, and he lay alone,
Beneath the solemn night;
With its soft and gorgeous light,
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Beneath the solemn night;
Beneath the hosts of heaven
In their grand reality;
'Mid the shadowy glooms of many tombs,
On the shores of a heaving sea.
In their grand reality;
'Mid the shadowy glooms of many tombs,
On the shores of a heaving sea.
A suit of polished armour
Lay glittering by his side;
Breastplate and casque and girdle,
And a sword of temper tried.
Lay glittering by his side;
Breastplate and casque and girdle,
And a sword of temper tried.
Furrows of inward conflict
On his brow were dented deep;
And he woke to a steadfast purpose
From the night of that awful sleep;
On his brow were dented deep;
And he woke to a steadfast purpose
From the night of that awful sleep;
For a strange and solemn Visitant
Beside his couch had been,
Clad in the old prophetic garb
And stern with the prophet's mien.
Beside his couch had been,
Clad in the old prophetic garb
And stern with the prophet's mien.
“What dost thou here?” she murmured;
“What is outshines what seems;
Earth has no room for idlers;
Life has no time for dreams.
“What is outshines what seems;
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Life has no time for dreams.
“Seest thou nought of suffering?
Knowest thou nought of sin?
Hast thou not heard the groans without,
Or felt the sting within?
Knowest thou nought of sin?
Hast thou not heard the groans without,
Or felt the sting within?
“Thy brethren die in prisons,—
Thy brethren toil in chains;
The body is racked by hunger,
And the heart has sharper pains.
Thy brethren toil in chains;
The body is racked by hunger,
And the heart has sharper pains.
“Gray heads 'neath the weight of labour
Are sinking into the grave;
And tender hearts are growing hard
For the want of a hand to save.
Are sinking into the grave;
And tender hearts are growing hard
For the want of a hand to save.
“Thousands of men, thy brethren,
Are perishing around;
And thou pourest out thy cup of life
Upon the barren ground.
Are perishing around;
And thou pourest out thy cup of life
Upon the barren ground.
“Rise, gird thee for true labour;
Rise, arm thee for the fight;
Go forth to earth's old battle-field;
Strike boldly for the right!
Rise, arm thee for the fight;
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Strike boldly for the right!
“Rise, cast thy dreamings from thee;
Rise, clothed with vigour new:
This fallen earth is no place for mirth;
Arise, go forth and do!”
Rise, clothed with vigour new:
This fallen earth is no place for mirth;
Arise, go forth and do!”
A thrill of fervent purpose
Through all his nature ran,
And from that sleep of visions deep
The Boy awoke a Man.
Through all his nature ran,
And from that sleep of visions deep
The Boy awoke a Man.
He trod with a steadfast aspect
Through beauty and weal and ill,
And his eyes were lit, and his frame was knit
By the strength of a fixëd will.
Through beauty and weal and ill,
And his eyes were lit, and his frame was knit
By the strength of a fixëd will.
And the sun to his strong purpose
Was but the lamp of life;
The abounding earth, in her beauty and mirth,
But the field of the mortal strife.
Was but the lamp of life;
The abounding earth, in her beauty and mirth,
But the field of the mortal strife.
Where the nations lay cold and torpid,
'Neath ages of wrong and shame,
With the patience of love the poet toiled
Till life to the stiff limbs came.
'Neath ages of wrong and shame,
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Till life to the stiff limbs came.
In the thick of the ancient battle,
Where the strong bear down the weak,
With the flaming swords of living words,
He fought for the poor and meek.
Where the strong bear down the weak,
With the flaming swords of living words,
He fought for the poor and meek.
Wherever were wrongs to be righted,
Or sick to be soothed and upheld;
Or a generous deed lay hidden,
Or a generous purpose quelled;
Or sick to be soothed and upheld;
Or a generous deed lay hidden,
Or a generous purpose quelled;
Or a noble heart lay sinking,
For the want of a cheering word;—
The music of his earnest voice
Above the din was heard;
For the want of a cheering word;—
The music of his earnest voice
Above the din was heard;
Till the sneer of scorn was silenced,
And the tongue of envy hushed,
And a tumult of wild, exulting praise
Throughout the nations rushed.
And the tongue of envy hushed,
And a tumult of wild, exulting praise
Throughout the nations rushed.
And they hailed him King and Hero,
And hasted his steps to greet;
And they crowned him with a golden crown,
And bowed beneath his feet.
And hasted his steps to greet;
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And bowed beneath his feet.
But yet once more the shadow
Over his soul was thrown,
And he on the height of his human might
Lay desolate and lone;
Over his soul was thrown,
And he on the height of his human might
Lay desolate and lone;
Till, in his helpless anguish,
His spirit turned on high,
And he called on the God of his childhood
With a loud and bitter cry:
His spirit turned on high,
And he called on the God of his childhood
With a loud and bitter cry:
“O God, they call me Hero,
And bow the reverent knee;
But I am not God, nor a godlike man,
That thus they kneel to me.
And bow the reverent knee;
But I am not God, nor a godlike man,
That thus they kneel to me.
“They call me Lord and Master;
They call me just and good;
And I cannot stay my failing breath,
Nor do the things I would.
They call me just and good;
And I cannot stay my failing breath,
Nor do the things I would.
“They cry on me for succour,
But in me is no might to save;
They hail me as one immortal,
And I sink into the grave.
But in me is no might to save;
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And I sink into the grave.
“Thou—only Thou—art Holy;
With Thee, with Thee, is might;
O stay me with Thy love and strength,
O clothe me with Thy light!”
With Thee, with Thee, is might;
O stay me with Thy love and strength,
O clothe me with Thy light!”
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