The Poetical Works of the Rev. George Croly In Two Volumes |
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 | The Poetical Works of the Rev. George Croly |  |
XIII.
Yet if a prayer could hasten destiny,
Were it not well in her bright hour to die—
The world at peace, or held in righteous fear!—
Man's pride, and strength,—her England's matchless spear?
Were it not well in her bright hour to die—
The world at peace, or held in righteous fear!—
Man's pride, and strength,—her England's matchless spear?
She should have died hereafter! no, not now,
Not thus have made our cup with tears o'erflow.
The holy cause had triumph'd,—England's car
Came, rich with trophies of her mightiest war;
Monarchs were in her train; above her van
Blazed the deliver'd cross, the ark of man;
And she stood forth, first, fairest stood, to hail
That day;—at once the victor's cheek was pale,
The triumph was eclipsed; was she the price?
The daughter vow'd? the bright, sad sacrifice? —
Ev'n in the hour when England's parent eye
Turn'd from its glory on her,—must she die!
Not thus have made our cup with tears o'erflow.
The holy cause had triumph'd,—England's car
Came, rich with trophies of her mightiest war;
Monarchs were in her train; above her van
Blazed the deliver'd cross, the ark of man;
And she stood forth, first, fairest stood, to hail
That day;—at once the victor's cheek was pale,
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The daughter vow'd? the bright, sad sacrifice? —
Ev'n in the hour when England's parent eye
Turn'd from its glory on her,—must she die!
| The Poetical Works of the Rev. George Croly | |