The ballad of Babe Christabel with other Lyrical Poems By Gerald Massey. Fifth Edition, Revised and Enlarged |
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A CRY OF THE PEOPLES. |
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 | The ballad of Babe Christabel with other Lyrical Poems |  |
A CRY OF THE PEOPLES.
Like a strong man in torture, the weary world turneth,
To clutch Freedom's robe round her slavery's starkness:
With shame and with shudder, poor Mother! she yearneth
O'er wrongs that are done in her dearth and her darkness.
O gather thy strength up, and crush the Abhorréd,
Who murder thy poor heart, and drain thy life-springs,—
And are crownéd to hide the Cain-brand on their forehead:
O let them be last of the Queens and the Kings!
To clutch Freedom's robe round her slavery's starkness:
With shame and with shudder, poor Mother! she yearneth
O'er wrongs that are done in her dearth and her darkness.
O gather thy strength up, and crush the Abhorréd,
Who murder thy poor heart, and drain thy life-springs,—
And are crownéd to hide the Cain-brand on their forehead:
O let them be last of the Queens and the Kings!
By the lovers and friends we have tenderly cherisht,
Who made the Cause soar up like flame at their breath,
Who struggled like Gods met in fight, and have perisht
In poverty's battle with grim daily death:
O, by all dear ones that bitterly plead for us—
Life-flowers tied up in the heart's breaking strings—
Sisters that weep for us—mothers that bleed for us—
Let these be last of the Queens and the Kings!
Who made the Cause soar up like flame at their breath,
Who struggled like Gods met in fight, and have perisht
In poverty's battle with grim daily death:
O, by all dear ones that bitterly plead for us—
Life-flowers tied up in the heart's breaking strings—
Sisters that weep for us—mothers that bleed for us—
Let these be last of the Queens and the Kings!
Sun and Rain kindle greenly the graves of our Martyrs,
Ye might not tell where the brave blood ran like rain!
But there it burns ever! and heaven's weeping waters
And branding suns never shall whiten the stain!
Remember the hurtling the Tyrants have wrought us,
And smite till each helm bravely flashes and rings!
Life for life, blood for blood, is the lesson they've taught us,
And be these the last of the Queens and the Kings!
Ye might not tell where the brave blood ran like rain!
But there it burns ever! and heaven's weeping waters
And branding suns never shall whiten the stain!
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And smite till each helm bravely flashes and rings!
Life for life, blood for blood, is the lesson they've taught us,
And be these the last of the Queens and the Kings!
Ho! weary Nightwatch, is there light on the summit?
Yearner up through the Night, say, is there hope?
For deeper in darkness than fathom of plummet,
Our Bark thro' the tempest doth stagger and grope!
“To God's unforgiven, to caitiff and craven—
To Crown and to Sceptre, a cleaving curse clings:
Ye must fling them from deck, would ye steer into haven,
For Death tracks the last of the Queens and the Kings!”
Yearner up through the Night, say, is there hope?
For deeper in darkness than fathom of plummet,
Our Bark thro' the tempest doth stagger and grope!
“To God's unforgiven, to caitiff and craven—
To Crown and to Sceptre, a cleaving curse clings:
Ye must fling them from deck, would ye steer into haven,
For Death tracks the last of the Queens and the Kings!”
| The ballad of Babe Christabel with other Lyrical Poems | |