A batch of war ballads :: :: University of Virginia Library

A batch of war ballads

By Martin F. Tupper

Tupper, Martin Farquhar (1810-1889)

[section]

I. BE READY!

II.

II. THE VAN AND THE REAR.

III.

III. THE LION AND THE BEAR.

IV.

IV. THE RIGHT AND THE WRONG.

V. OUR FALSE-AND-TRUE POSITION.

VI.

VI. THE TWO NEIGHBOURS.

VII.

VII. TO THE SOLDIERS.

VIII.

VIII. TO THE SAILORS.

IX.

XI.

XII.

XII.—A SUSPICION. I.—AND A HOPE. II.

XIII.

XIII.—AMBIDEXTERA.

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XIII.—AMBIDEXTERA.

[I.]

And what if they fight? can it matter to us
That Russ worry Turk, and Turk worry Russ?
That two fierce fanatics manage at length
To weaken each other's barbarian strength,
And Sultan and Czar, from their pinnacles hurl'd,
Both bleed in the dust for the gain of the world?
Can it matter to us? what need that we fight
For Muscovite insult, or Mussulman right,
For Mahomet's Turkey, presuming on Fate,
Or Petersburg tyranny, founded in hate?
No!—England, the peaceful, does all that she can
For the welfare and progress of civilised Man,
But cannot consent in a quarrel to mix
The limits of savage with savage to fix,
Or strive to prop up, for one dearly-bought hour.
So false and so foolish a “balance of power:”
Then, rush to the battle! make short bloody work!
Fall foul of each other, O Russ and O Turk!
By mutual slaughter and fury to purge
Fair Europe of boils at her uttermost verge!
Press forward, ye frenzied and barbarous hordes
With matchlocks and arrows and lances and swords,
That thus the bad blood of the world be let out
By hands that are skill'd in the bowstring and knout!
Go,—turban'd and scymetar'd Pagan, attack
The blood-drunken Tartar and brutal Cossack!
Go,—red-revolutionist infidel herd,
The kite and the raven and every foul bird,
Go, mix with the mêlée! and drain to the South
This ulcer of Earth in the Danube's red mouth!

II.

Can it matter to us? O, the matter is much
If England be purg'd from the poison of such;
If Christendom's humours be drawn from her head
To the foot-distant seton of Turkey instead;
If soldiers of fortune, and scoundrels of chance
Converge to the Balkan from Prussia and France;
If Europe be cleansed of her dregs and her scum
By the blare of the bugle and tap of the drum;
If the flare of the Crescent grow more and more dim,
And the Bear be made weak in each murderous limb;
If tyranny, darkness, and fatalist zeal
Be shot down by bullet and cut down by steel,
And all that is hostile to all that is good
Be broken together, and smothered in blood!
Can it matter to us? can it matter to Man?
O, press to the battle, dear Liberty's van!
Arouse thee, fair Hungary, crush'd and cast down,
And find a new use for thy newly-found crown!
Can it matter? The Rubicon now is the Pruth,
Go forth, Alexander in Louis Kossuth!
Can it matter? O Poland, thy glory revives,
Kosciusko still lives in ten million of lives!
Can it matter? Young Italy, patient but bold,
Rekindle dead Rome and her greatness of old;
Awake her to life by this storm in the East,
And send to their limbo the Pope and the priest!
Can it matter? O Greece, thou world-honour'd Greece,
Arise in old majesty, beauty, and peace,
And out of this turmoil win back for mankind
A Pericles Age in the Reign of the Mind!

III.

What more can it matter? O more than them all,
Than Liberty's triumph, or Tyranny's fall,
Than despots unsceptred, or popery crush'd,
Or red revolution with victory flush'd!
It matters to us, that the downtrodden Right
Be raised and revenged and establish'd in Might;
It matters to us, that the Wrong and the Base
Be check'd and confounded and drown'd in disgrace;
That Russia be stopp'd in its criminal course
And brigand rapacity fettered by force,—
That all the fierce wrath of that roaming wild beast
Be cribb'd and confined to the bounds of the East,
Its mammoth-like muscles be pinion'd betimes,
And stern retribution be dealt for its crimes!
That Turkey, the innocent, injured, abused,
Be help'd in right earnest and nothing refused,
By sea and by land be delivered from wrong,
And the weak be made able to grapple the strong,
Its honest good-fellowship rescued in need,
And the Lamb from the Wolf be courageously freed!
It matters,—O much does it matter to Man,
For who sees the End of what Russia began?
This earthquake of nations, this hurricane dire,
This heaving volcano, this deluge of fire,
Must grow to a vortex and ever increase,—
Till HE that is coming bring Glory and Peace,
And shut up this Saturday Night of the Earth
With its six thousandth year, its Sabbath-day's birth,
When Right shall stand highest, and Wrong be down-hurl'd,
And Justice and Mercy shall govern the world!