The Poetical Works of George Barlow In Ten [Eleven] Volumes |
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THE SOUL OF ENGLAND
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 | The Poetical Works of George Barlow |  |
22
THE SOUL OF ENGLAND
If the strong soul from England goes,
The soul that loves the weak,—
The soul that in the past arose
Vengeance divine to wreak;
The soul that loves the weak,—
The soul that in the past arose
Vengeance divine to wreak;
The soul that drew the loving gaze
Of those who strove and fought
On blood-red fields, in slippery ways,
For Freedom, Peace and Thought;
Of those who strove and fought
On blood-red fields, in slippery ways,
For Freedom, Peace and Thought;
The soul that wept for Poland's fall,
That clasped Mazzini's hand,
That aye responded to a call
For help by sea or land;
That clasped Mazzini's hand,
That aye responded to a call
For help by sea or land;
The soul that through the voice superb
Of Swinburne hailed the young
Republic bursting chain and curb,
The strife that Hugo sung;
Of Swinburne hailed the young
Republic bursting chain and curb,
The strife that Hugo sung;
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The soul that when the Southern slave
At last was saved and free
Sent o'er the blue Atlantic's wave
The greeting of the sea;
At last was saved and free
Sent o'er the blue Atlantic's wave
The greeting of the sea;
The soul that never, through wild years
Of struggle, quite forgot
The toils of others and their tears,
But shared the human lot;
Of struggle, quite forgot
The toils of others and their tears,
But shared the human lot;
The soul that through our women spake
In tenderness supreme,—
That where a heart could throb or break
Found Song's divinest theme;
In tenderness supreme,—
That where a heart could throb or break
Found Song's divinest theme;
The soul that in the ancient days
Hurled Rome's attacks aside,
And sought upon the ocean-ways
The ocean's breast for bride;
Hurled Rome's attacks aside,
And sought upon the ocean-ways
The ocean's breast for bride;
The soul that in the days to come
A mightier task may find
If from our love-crowned island-home
Spring thoughts that lift mankind;
A mightier task may find
If from our love-crowned island-home
Spring thoughts that lift mankind;
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If this the soul of England fails,
All hopes have failed indeed:
Before the threats of hell, heaven quails,
Nor can one star succeed.
All hopes have failed indeed:
Before the threats of hell, heaven quails,
Nor can one star succeed.
1903.
| The Poetical Works of George Barlow | |