The Poetical Works of James Thomson The City of Dreadful Night: By James Thomson ("B. V."): Edited by Bertram Dobell: With a Memoir of the Author: In two volumes |
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GARIBALDI REVISITING ENGLAND |
 | The Poetical Works of James Thomson |  |
416
GARIBALDI REVISITING ENGLAND
This day all the eyes of our millions
Are fixed on the south, where the light
Of the waves of the Channel laughs fearless
Round the thunder-clouds stored with our might;
This day the great heart of the people
Is throbbing expectant, upstirred
By a pride and a joy and a sorrow
The voice of those thunders should word.
Are fixed on the south, where the light
Of the waves of the Channel laughs fearless
Round the thunder-clouds stored with our might;
This day the great heart of the people
Is throbbing expectant, upstirred
By a pride and a joy and a sorrow
The voice of those thunders should word.
For what is this mighty heart glowing?
For what do these earnest eyes scan?
It glows for a hero and martyr,
They look for a patriot, a Man;
For a hero supreme in the battle,
A martyr no griefs could subdue,
A patriot the soul of his country,
A man to the people all-true:
For what do these earnest eyes scan?
It glows for a hero and martyr,
They look for a patriot, a Man;
For a hero supreme in the battle,
A martyr no griefs could subdue,
A patriot the soul of his country,
A man to the people all-true:
For him who as grandly defended
As grandly Mazzini ruled Rome;
For him who gave Sicily, Naples,
To those who had bartered his home;
For him who on sad Aspromonte
Was pierced by a countryman's ball,—
Tu Brute! this Cæsar worst-wounded
In soul yet forgiveth it all.
As grandly Mazzini ruled Rome;
For him who gave Sicily, Naples,
To those who had bartered his home;
417
Was pierced by a countryman's ball,—
Tu Brute! this Cæsar worst-wounded
In soul yet forgiveth it all.
Oh, let us, we people of England,
We millions the worst and the best,
Give welcome true, solemn, and thoughtful,
Befitting the worth of our guest.
All titles and wealth which the monarch
Could proffer this man is above;
The people alone can reward him
In his own golden coin, loyal love.
We millions the worst and the best,
Give welcome true, solemn, and thoughtful,
Befitting the worth of our guest.
All titles and wealth which the monarch
Could proffer this man is above;
The people alone can reward him
In his own golden coin, loyal love.
Nor let us forget in the shoutings
And feasts of the triumph they plan,
That he comes not alone in his glory;
The Nation is here in the Man:
Enceladus Italy, risen
With earthquake, but pausing distrest;
The left arm still brutally fettered,
And Peter's rock crushing the breast.
And feasts of the triumph they plan,
That he comes not alone in his glory;
The Nation is here in the Man:
Enceladus Italy, risen
With earthquake, but pausing distrest;
The left arm still brutally fettered,
And Peter's rock crushing the breast.
| The Poetical Works of James Thomson | |