Ballads for the Times (Now first collected,) Geraldine, A Modern Pyramid, Bartenus, A Thousand Lines, and other poems. By Martin F. Tupper. A new Edition, enlarged and revised |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
Alfred,
|
|
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
|
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
|
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
 | Ballads for the Times |  |
249
Alfred,
Born at Wantage, in Berkshire, Oct. 25, 849.
Come, every trueborn Englishman! come Anglo-Saxons all!
I wake a tune to-day to take and hold your hearts in thrall;
I sing The King, the Saxon king, the glorious and the great,
The root and spring of everything we love in Church and State.
I wake a tune to-day to take and hold your hearts in thrall;
I sing The King, the Saxon king, the glorious and the great,
The root and spring of everything we love in Church and State.
'Tis just a thousand years to-day,—Oh! years are swift and brief,—
Since erst uprose in majesty the daystar of our Chief,
Since Wantage bred a wondrous child, whom God hath made the Cause
Of half the best we boast in British liberties and laws.
Since erst uprose in majesty the daystar of our Chief,
Since Wantage bred a wondrous child, whom God hath made the Cause
Of half the best we boast in British liberties and laws.
Last-born of royal Ethelwolf, he left his island home,
Ulysses-like, to study men and marvels in old Rome;
And, thence in wrath returning, overthrew the pirate Dane,
And, young as Pitt, at twenty-two, began a Hero's reign.
Ulysses-like, to study men and marvels in old Rome;
And, thence in wrath returning, overthrew the pirate Dane,
And, young as Pitt, at twenty-two, began a Hero's reign.
Oh! Guthran swore, and Hubba smote, and sturdy Hinguar storm'd,
And still like locusts o'er the land the red marauders swarm'd;
But Alfred was a David, to scatter every foe,—
The shepherd, psalmist, warrior, king, unblamed in weal and woe.
And still like locusts o'er the land the red marauders swarm'd;
But Alfred was a David, to scatter every foe,—
The shepherd, psalmist, warrior, king, unblamed in weal and woe.
Aye, hiding with the herdsman, or harping in the camp,
Or earnestly redeeming time beneath the midnight lamp,
Or ruling on his quiet throne, or fighting in the fen,
Our Alfred was indeed an Agamemnon, king of Men!
Or earnestly redeeming time beneath the midnight lamp,
Or ruling on his quiet throne, or fighting in the fen,
Our Alfred was indeed an Agamemnon, king of Men!
Unshrinking champion of the Right, in patriot strength he stood,—
Declare it, threescore fields of fight! and mark it down in blood:
Unflinching chief, unerring judge, he stoutly held the helm,—
Tell out those thirty years of praise, all Albion's happy realm!
Declare it, threescore fields of fight! and mark it down in blood:
Unflinching chief, unerring judge, he stoutly held the helm,—
Tell out those thirty years of praise, all Albion's happy realm!
250
A Solomon for wisdom's choice,—that he loved learning well
Let Oxford chimes with grateful voice from all their turrets tell;
A Numa, and Justinian too, let every parish sound
His birthday on the merry bells through all the country round!
Let Oxford chimes with grateful voice from all their turrets tell;
A Numa, and Justinian too, let every parish sound
His birthday on the merry bells through all the country round!
A Nestor, while in years a youth, he taught as Plato taught,
A Constantine, a Washington, he fought as Scipio fought,
A Wellington,—his laurell'd sword with Peace was glory-gilt,
And Nelson's earliest wooden walls of Alfred's oaks were built!
A Constantine, a Washington, he fought as Scipio fought,
A Wellington,—his laurell'd sword with Peace was glory-gilt,
And Nelson's earliest wooden walls of Alfred's oaks were built!
O gallant Britons, bless the God who gave you such a prince,
His like was never known before, nor ever hath been since,
The fountain of your liberties, your honours and your health,
The mountain of your sturdy strength, the Ophir of your wealth.
His like was never known before, nor ever hath been since,
The fountain of your liberties, your honours and your health,
The mountain of your sturdy strength, the Ophir of your wealth.
And now, arouse thee, Royal Ghost! in majesty look round;
On every shore, in every clime, thy conquering sons are found;
By kingdoms and dominions, by continents and isles,
The Anglo-Saxon realm is fifty hundred thousand miles!
On every shore, in every clime, thy conquering sons are found;
By kingdoms and dominions, by continents and isles,
The Anglo-Saxon realm is fifty hundred thousand miles!
Aye, smile on us, and bless us in thy loftiness of love,—
The name of Anglo-Saxon is all other names above,
By peoples and by nations, by tribe and sept and clan,
Two hundred millions claim it in the family of Man!
The name of Anglo-Saxon is all other names above,
By peoples and by nations, by tribe and sept and clan,
Two hundred millions claim it in the family of Man!
They claim it, and they claim Thee too, their father and their king!
O mighty Shade! behold the crowds who claim thy sheltering wing:
Thou hast o'ershadow'd, like an Alp, the half of this broad earth,
And where thy shadow falls is Light, and Anglo-Saxon worth!
O mighty Shade! behold the crowds who claim thy sheltering wing:
Thou hast o'ershadow'd, like an Alp, the half of this broad earth,
And where thy shadow falls is Light, and Anglo-Saxon worth!
The energy, the daring, the cheerfulness, the pride,
The stalwarth love of freedom, with Religion well allied,
The trust in God for ever, and the hope in Man for time,
These characters they learnt of thee, and stand like thee sublime.
The stalwarth love of freedom, with Religion well allied,
The trust in God for ever, and the hope in Man for time,
These characters they learnt of thee, and stand like thee sublime.
251
Where'er thy gracious children come, a blessing there they bring,
The sweet securities of Home around that place they fling,
Warm Comfort, and pure Charity, and Duty's bright blue eye,
And Enterprize, and Industry, are stars upon that sky!
The sweet securities of Home around that place they fling,
Warm Comfort, and pure Charity, and Duty's bright blue eye,
And Enterprize, and Industry, are stars upon that sky!
Stout Husbandry amid those fields with soft Contentment meets,
And honest Commerce, early up, is stirring in those streets;
And all the glories of the sword, and honours of the pen,
Make us the Wonder of the world, the Cynosure of men!
And honest Commerce, early up, is stirring in those streets;
And all the glories of the sword, and honours of the pen,
Make us the Wonder of the world, the Cynosure of men!
And, hark! upon my harp and tongue a sweeter note of praise,
How should a Saxon leave unsung what best he loves always?
O dearer, deeper, nobler songs to thrill the heart and mind,—
The crown of womanhood belongs to English womankind!
How should a Saxon leave unsung what best he loves always?
O dearer, deeper, nobler songs to thrill the heart and mind,—
The crown of womanhood belongs to English womankind!
Young maiden, modest as the morn, yet glowing like the noon,
True wife, in placid tenderness as lustrous silver moon,
Dear mother, loving unto death and better loved than life,
Where can the wide world match me such a mother, maid, or wife?
True wife, in placid tenderness as lustrous silver moon,
Dear mother, loving unto death and better loved than life,
Where can the wide world match me such a mother, maid, or wife?
Fair Athelswytha, Alfred's own, is still your spirit's queen,
The faithful, the courageous, the tender, the serene,
The pious heroine of home, the solace, friend, and nurse,
The height of self-forgetfulness, the climax of all verse!
The faithful, the courageous, the tender, the serene,
The pious heroine of home, the solace, friend, and nurse,
The height of self-forgetfulness, the climax of all verse!
And now, Great Alfred's countrymen and countrywomen all,—
Victoria! Albert! graciously regard your minstrel's call!
Up, royal, gentle, simple folk! up first, ye men of Berks!
And give a nation's monument to Alfred's mighty works!
Victoria! Albert! graciously regard your minstrel's call!
Up, royal, gentle, simple folk! up first, ye men of Berks!
And give a nation's monument to Alfred's mighty works!
In Anglo-Saxon majesty, simplicity and strength,
O children, build your Father's tomb, for very shame at length:
The birthday of your king has dawn'd a thousand times this day,
It must not die before you set your seal to what I say!
O children, build your Father's tomb, for very shame at length:
The birthday of your king has dawn'd a thousand times this day,
It must not die before you set your seal to what I say!
| Ballads for the Times | |