The poetical works of John Greenleaf Whittier in four volumes |
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THE CURSE OF THE CHARTER-BREAKERS. |
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The poetical works of John Greenleaf Whittier | ||
THE CURSE OF THE CHARTER-BREAKERS.
The rights and liberties affirmed by Magna Charta were deemed of such importance, in the thirteenth century, that the Bishops, twice a year, with tapers burning, and in their pontifical robes, pronounced, in the presence of the king and the representatives of the estates of England, the greater excommunication against the infringer of that instrument. The imposing ceremony took place in the great Hall of Westminster. A copy of the curse, as pronounced in 1253, declares that, “by the authority of Almighty God, and the blessed Apostles and Martyrs, and all the saints in heaven, all those who violate the English liberties, and secretly or openly, by deed, word, or counsel, do make statutes, or observe them being made, against said liberties, are accursed and sequestered from the company of heaven and the sacraments of the Holy Church.”
William Penn, in his admirable political pamphlet, England's Present Interest Considered, alluding to the curse of the Charter-breakers, says: “I am no Roman Catholic, and little value their other curses; yet I declare I would not for the world incur this curse, as every man deservedly doth, who offers violence to the fundamental freedom thereby repeated and confirmed.”
Robed in their pontificals,
England's ancient prelates stood
For the people's right and good.
Dark and still, like winter's cloud;
King and council, lord and knight,
Squire and yeoman, stood in sight;
In God's name, the Church's curse,
By the tapers round them it,
Slowly, sternly uttering it.
Right of peers to try each cause;
Peasant homestead, mean and small,
Sacred as the monarch's hall,—
England's ancient liberties;
Whoso breaks, by word or deed,
England's vow at Runnymede;
Whatsoe'er his rank or might,
If the highest, then the worst,
Let him live and die accursed.
Keys alike, of hell and heaven,
Make our word and witness sure,
Let the curse we speak endure!”
Every bare and listening head
Bowed in reverent awe, and then
All the people said, Amen!
For the centuries gray and old,
Since that stoled and mitred band
Cursed the tyrants of their land.
Stood between the poor and power;
And the wronged and trodden down
Blessed the abbot's shaven crown.
Lost, their keys of heaven and hell;
Yet I sigh for men as bold
As those bearded priests of old.
At the threshold of the state;
Waiting for the beck and nod
Of its power as law and God.
Sanctify his stolen hoards;
Slavery laughs, while ghostly lips
Bless his manacles and whips.
Not to them looks liberty,
Who with fawning falsehood cower
To the wrong, when clothed with power.
Round the master, round the king,
Sported with, and sold and bought,—
Pitifuller sight is not!
God's true priest is always free;
Free, the needed truth to speak,
Right the wronged, and raise the weak.
Leaving Lazarus at the gate;
Not to peddle creeds like wares;
Not to mutter hireling prayers;
On the sable ground of this;
Golden streets for idle knave,
Sabbath rest for weary slave!
Priest of God, thy mission is;
But to make earth's desert glad,
In its Eden greenness clad;
Lord and peasant, serf and king;
And the Christ of God to find
In the humblest of thy kind!
Clearing thorny wrongs away;
Plucking up the weeds of sin,
Letting heaven's warm sunshine in;
Listening what the spirit saith,
Of the dim-seen light afar,
Growing like a nearing star.
To the waiting ones below;
'Twixt them and its light midway
Heralding the better day;
Hearing notes of angel choirs,
Where, as yet unseen of them,
Comes the New Jerusalem!
On the glory downward blazing;
Till upon Earth's grateful sod
Rests the City of our God!
The poetical works of John Greenleaf Whittier | ||