 | Sketches from Life in Town and Country |  |
239
THE FELLOWSHIP OF HUMANITY
As one who, late at eve returning home
Under the stars, hears on the common road
A fellow-footstep fall, and sees one come
Dimly, he knows not whom, nor can forebode;
Under the stars, hears on the common road
A fellow-footstep fall, and sees one come
Dimly, he knows not whom, nor can forebode;
But cries to him, “God speed thee,” and is glad
Hearing his restful answer through the night,
And dreams of love, and though his heart be sad
Feels darkly some strange instinct of delight:
Hearing his restful answer through the night,
And dreams of love, and though his heart be sad
Feels darkly some strange instinct of delight:
So I to thee. If on this earthly way
Our paths had lain together, I perchance
In the sweet sunlight had beheld thy day
And known thee as thou art—as in a trance,—
Our paths had lain together, I perchance
In the sweet sunlight had beheld thy day
And known thee as thou art—as in a trance,—
And loved thee, and thou me. But seeing now
Sad night compels us, and our way is won
Through ignorance and blindness to the brow
Of that fair mountain of the morning Sun
Sad night compels us, and our way is won
Through ignorance and blindness to the brow
Of that fair mountain of the morning Sun
Whence Truth is manifest, let us remain
In word and action strangers, yet in heart
One and well known by every joy and pain
That makes divine our little human part.
In word and action strangers, yet in heart
One and well known by every joy and pain
That makes divine our little human part.
240
LAMPS BEFORE DAWN
I walk as one who, walking through the night
From village unto village far withdrawn,
Sees here and there a light and men who wake
With confused murmur growing unto dawn.
From village unto village far withdrawn,
Sees here and there a light and men who wake
With confused murmur growing unto dawn.
And suddenly the birds start into song,
And cart-wheels creak along the flinty ways,
And men are in the field, and lights are out,
While the first sunbeam fills the air with praise.
And cart-wheels creak along the flinty ways,
And men are in the field, and lights are out,
While the first sunbeam fills the air with praise.
So louder, as I wander through the world,
Sounds that glad anthem of the coming Day,
And lamps of men that grope within the dark
Flash quick and quicker through the morning grey,
Sounds that glad anthem of the coming Day,
And lamps of men that grope within the dark
Flash quick and quicker through the morning grey,
Ere they grow dim. O glance a thousand ways
Through night-airs coldly wreathing round my brow,
Ye heralds of a sun before whose face,
The whiles ye fade, men hasten forth to bow!
Through night-airs coldly wreathing round my brow,
Ye heralds of a sun before whose face,
The whiles ye fade, men hasten forth to bow!
241
THE ARTIST TO HIS LADY
I put my hands together palm to palm,
And say: Take these; and, wheresoe'er thou wilt,
Go—I will follow. For indeed I have
No other life than this—to follow Thee.
And say: Take these; and, wheresoe'er thou wilt,
Go—I will follow. For indeed I have
No other life than this—to follow Thee.
The Lady of my love is very fair;
Often when morning rose above the rain
She waved her white hand at the window-pane,
And passed and mounted thro' the fields of air.
Often when morning rose above the rain
She waved her white hand at the window-pane,
And passed and mounted thro' the fields of air.
I never saw her face or felt her smile—
She seemed to pine among the haunts of men;
Till at the last I left my city den,
And followed in her footsteps for a while.
She seemed to pine among the haunts of men;
Till at the last I left my city den,
And followed in her footsteps for a while.
She led me where the light shines freely down,
She set me by the river-fringes green,
And turned herself; and in her face, I ween,
The glories of all worlds to me were shown.
She set me by the river-fringes green,
And turned herself; and in her face, I ween,
The glories of all worlds to me were shown.
Her radiant front is not of mortal mould,
Her look is of the lands which are not seen,
Broad is her brow, somewhat austere her mien,
Yet magical her beauty to behold.
Her look is of the lands which are not seen,
Broad is her brow, somewhat austere her mien,
Yet magical her beauty to behold.
For all the friendless way hedged with offence,
For all the hours forsaken of her face,
Now to behold in peace her peerless grace
Is and remains my perfect recompense.
For all the hours forsaken of her face,
Now to behold in peace her peerless grace
Is and remains my perfect recompense.
242
THE SLEEPING VENUS
Still, as she sleeps, betwixt her slender brows
The calm of summer and dim twilight dwells;
Day's faint vermilion, clear with evening bells,
Fitfully on her sleep-flushed temple glows.
The calm of summer and dim twilight dwells;
Day's faint vermilion, clear with evening bells,
Fitfully on her sleep-flushed temple glows.
Her lips, like rosy lovers loth to part,
Make scanty room between them for her breath;
About their wavy outline wandereth
A smile as sweet as when swift sunbeams dart
Make scanty room between them for her breath;
About their wavy outline wandereth
A smile as sweet as when swift sunbeams dart
This way and that upon a windless lake
That ripples roundly ere it sinks to rest;
And to that smile the smooth curves of her breast
And flowing limbs delightful answer make.
That ripples roundly ere it sinks to rest;
And to that smile the smooth curves of her breast
And flowing limbs delightful answer make.
O'er all that placid world of hill and dale
Night from her down-curved eyelids slowly draws
The fragrant gloom of sleep, that overawes
And folds the waking senses in a veil.
Night from her down-curved eyelids slowly draws
The fragrant gloom of sleep, that overawes
And folds the waking senses in a veil.
White shines her forehead as when moon-rays gleam
Blue-veined against the crystal vault of heaven,
Her slumbrous hair in languid tresses woven
Forebodes the rapture of Love's timeless dream.
Blue-veined against the crystal vault of heaven,
Her slumbrous hair in languid tresses woven
Forebodes the rapture of Love's timeless dream.
243
A LOCOMOTIVE
With a rush and a roar, thro' the wind and the rain,
I flash in the light and vanish again,
Where dim to the passenger through the wet pane
A wayside station appears.
'Tis night: all is silent and still. With a scream
I waken the signalman out of his dream;
And his lamps like the flash of a meteor seem
To the passenger wight as he peers.
I flash in the light and vanish again,
Where dim to the passenger through the wet pane
A wayside station appears.
'Tis night: all is silent and still. With a scream
I waken the signalman out of his dream;
And his lamps like the flash of a meteor seem
To the passenger wight as he peers.
Then forward, with flaming front and a bound,
I leap on the dark and devour the ground,
And the night recedes before and around,
And closes upon me behind;
Where, caught in a terrible whirlwind of wheels,
The earth falls dizzily backward and reels
And rises in clouds of dust on my heels,
With dead leaves blown on the wind.
I leap on the dark and devour the ground,
And the night recedes before and around,
And closes upon me behind;
Where, caught in a terrible whirlwind of wheels,
The earth falls dizzily backward and reels
And rises in clouds of dust on my heels,
With dead leaves blown on the wind.
On, into the night, through echoing arch
And loud resounding tunnel I march;
By misty forests of fir and larch,
And over the wind-swept ridge;
And the passenger-mortal, as morning appears,
Half wakes in a world of indefinite fears
And drowsily falls back asleep as he hears
The sound of my feet on the bridge.
And loud resounding tunnel I march;
By misty forests of fir and larch,
And over the wind-swept ridge;
244
Half wakes in a world of indefinite fears
And drowsily falls back asleep as he hears
The sound of my feet on the bridge.
A thousand shocks are shattered to one
As over the resonant metals I run
With a storm of sounds enough to stun
The ears of a marble bust.
A swerve, a slip, and that slender life
Is shorn asunder as with a sharp knife,
Or battered from knowledge of brother or wife,
And cast away in the dust.
As over the resonant metals I run
With a storm of sounds enough to stun
The ears of a marble bust.
A swerve, a slip, and that slender life
Is shorn asunder as with a sharp knife,
Or battered from knowledge of brother or wife,
And cast away in the dust.
Yet I am not I to will this thing,
But man arose like a masterful king,
Put fire for my heart, a wheel for wing,
And breathed his breath in my mouth;
And bade me hurry at his behest
With eager feet forgetful of rest
To bear him for ever from East to West,
To bear him from North to South.
But man arose like a masterful king,
Put fire for my heart, a wheel for wing,
And breathed his breath in my mouth;
And bade me hurry at his behest
With eager feet forgetful of rest
To bear him for ever from East to West,
To bear him from North to South.
So whenever I faint, or falter, or tire,
I feel and know in my heart the fire
Of man my master's fierce desire
Impels me forward again.
Let him cling to me now as best he can,
But blame me not if I be his ban,
For since I was made the servant of Man
I am unmindful of men.
I feel and know in my heart the fire
Of man my master's fierce desire
Impels me forward again.
Let him cling to me now as best he can,
But blame me not if I be his ban,
For since I was made the servant of Man
I am unmindful of men.
245
GENOA
Where Genoa spreads her white arms crescent-wise,
Her feet o'er well-packed bale and polished spar
Step on the quay with men of every star.
Her heart stays with her people; but her eyes
From those high garden-terraces devise
New realms of peaceful conquest, where afar
Ocean's white horses at the harbour bar
Wait ever for their rider to arise.
Her feet o'er well-packed bale and polished spar
Step on the quay with men of every star.
Her heart stays with her people; but her eyes
From those high garden-terraces devise
New realms of peaceful conquest, where afar
Ocean's white horses at the harbour bar
Wait ever for their rider to arise.
Here boy Columbus stood, and o'er the blue
Immeasurable fields imagined new.
Here young Mazzini, while for men he yearned,
Another world within their eyes discerned—
The one Republic without place or date.
So both for men lived,—and died execrate.
Immeasurable fields imagined new.
Here young Mazzini, while for men he yearned,
Another world within their eyes discerned—
The one Republic without place or date.
So both for men lived,—and died execrate.
246
BEETHOVEN
Betwixt the actual and unseen, alone,
Companionless, deaf, in dread solitude
Of soul amid the faithless multitude,
He lived, and fought with life, and held his own;
Knew poverty, and shame which is not shown,
Pride, doubt, and secret heart-despair of good,—
Insolent praise of men and petty feud;
Yet fell not from his purpose, framed and known.
Companionless, deaf, in dread solitude
Of soul amid the faithless multitude,
He lived, and fought with life, and held his own;
Knew poverty, and shame which is not shown,
Pride, doubt, and secret heart-despair of good,—
Insolent praise of men and petty feud;
Yet fell not from his purpose, framed and known.
For as a lonely watcher of the night,
When all men sleep, sees the tumultuous stars
Move forward from the deep in squadrons bright,
And notes them, he through this life's prison bars
Heard all night long the spheric music clear
Beat on his heart,—and lived that men might hear.
When all men sleep, sees the tumultuous stars
Move forward from the deep in squadrons bright,
And notes them, he through this life's prison bars
Heard all night long the spheric music clear
Beat on his heart,—and lived that men might hear.
247
THE FOOTPATH
Out at the doorway with shrill delight
Ringing, clear of alloy,
After a butterfly flashing so white
As it wheels and floats in the soft sunlight,
He darts, O adventurous joy!
Ringing, clear of alloy,
After a butterfly flashing so white
As it wheels and floats in the soft sunlight,
He darts, O adventurous joy!
Away! the fields are waving, the wheat
Stands proudly over the path,
The path winds onward, winning his feet
Through avenues arched and shady and sweet,—
Sweet vista that childhood hath.
Stands proudly over the path,
The path winds onward, winning his feet
Through avenues arched and shady and sweet,—
Sweet vista that childhood hath.
But stay: the butterfly has upflown
High in the stainless blue;
Under the shadowing wheat, alone,
He stands and wonders, still as a stone,
For all the world is new.
High in the stainless blue;
Under the shadowing wheat, alone,
He stands and wonders, still as a stone,
For all the world is new.
He sees each beautiful stem, blue-green,
Standing alone in its grace,
Great pendulous poppies aflame between,
And lithe convolvulus climbing to screen
That dim forest-world from his face.
Standing alone in its grace,
Great pendulous poppies aflame between,
And lithe convolvulus climbing to screen
That dim forest-world from his face.
248
He sees overhead as they dance to its tune
The ears flash white in the wind,
But that musical laugh before mid-noon
Ripples far and faint in the heat, and soon
Leaves silence only behind.
The ears flash white in the wind,
But that musical laugh before mid-noon
Ripples far and faint in the heat, and soon
Leaves silence only behind.
And the silence falls on his fresh young soul
Like the far sound of the sea,
Infinite, solemn; its strange control
Possesses him quite; quick fancies roll
Through his brain; half fearfully
Like the far sound of the sea,
Infinite, solemn; its strange control
Possesses him quite; quick fancies roll
Through his brain; half fearfully
He looks; and the long path seems to strain
His tremulous lips apart;
Some sudden trouble his eyes sustain;
For so the folded blossom of pain
Has broke in his childish heart.
His tremulous lips apart;
Some sudden trouble his eyes sustain;
For so the folded blossom of pain
Has broke in his childish heart.
What is it?—some swift intuitive glance,
Half-shapen only in thought,
Of stranger worlds, of wide mischance?
Some intimate sense of severance
Or loss?—I know not what.
Half-shapen only in thought,
Of stranger worlds, of wide mischance?
Some intimate sense of severance
Or loss?—I know not what.
He turns and leaps; for his mother's arms
Out of the doorway lean;
She folds him safely from all alarms,
And rallies his courage with rhythmical charms,—
Yet knows not what he has seen.
Out of the doorway lean;
She folds him safely from all alarms,
And rallies his courage with rhythmical charms,—
Yet knows not what he has seen.
249
GOING TO SCHOOL
Beside the cottage door, she sees
The white sheep in the sun;
The old Church-gable thro' the trees
Breaks with the bounding of the breeze—
Cloud-shadows o'er it run.
The white sheep in the sun;
The old Church-gable thro' the trees
Breaks with the bounding of the breeze—
Cloud-shadows o'er it run.
Upward the green hill-slope they go—
Cloud-shadow, shadow and cloud;
Kiss on the height and hasten so
Down heaven's blue galleries below—
Cloud, cloud-shadow and cloud.
Cloud-shadow, shadow and cloud;
Kiss on the height and hasten so
Down heaven's blue galleries below—
Cloud, cloud-shadow and cloud.
The brown bee buzzes at the door,
The lilies shine like fire,
And overhead the lark will soar
And toss his sweet song evermore
Higher, and ever higher.
The lilies shine like fire,
And overhead the lark will soar
And toss his sweet song evermore
Higher, and ever higher.
Rich marigolds, star-thick, arise
Out of the warm wet earth,
Gaze, orange-gold, up azure skies,
Like beacon-flames for butterflies
Half-blind in honeyed mirth.
Out of the warm wet earth,
Gaze, orange-gold, up azure skies,
Like beacon-flames for butterflies
Half-blind in honeyed mirth.
250
She sees it all with open eye,
Absorbed in dream-world wonder;
Looks, childlike, o'er the tree-tops high,
And smiles—she has not learnt to sigh—
Then comes the distant Thunder!
Absorbed in dream-world wonder;
Looks, childlike, o'er the tree-tops high,
And smiles—she has not learnt to sigh—
Then comes the distant Thunder!
Quick as a squirrel she slips her book
Into her satchel brown,
Smoothes fair her frock to get a look
At tiny feet that said they took
To heart her solemn frown;
Into her satchel brown,
Smoothes fair her frock to get a look
At tiny feet that said they took
To heart her solemn frown;
Then, unforgetful evermore
Of hill and cloud and valley,
Hastens, the thunderstorm before,
Hot-cheeked at its rebukeful roar,
All down a dark yew-alley.
Of hill and cloud and valley,
Hastens, the thunderstorm before,
Hot-cheeked at its rebukeful roar,
All down a dark yew-alley.
251
CUPID BELIES HIS OWN FAREWELL
Hard by the mountain springs I heard a dove
Wail long, wail loud, her passionate complaint,
And looking saw the tender God of love
Trip past with arrows sheathed and bow unbent.
Wail long, wail loud, her passionate complaint,
And looking saw the tender God of love
Trip past with arrows sheathed and bow unbent.
Quickly I caught and drew him to my side.
He spake no word, but looked into my face
With childish eyes of wonder opened wide,
And innocent half-hesitating grace.
He spake no word, but looked into my face
With childish eyes of wonder opened wide,
And innocent half-hesitating grace.
I thought him bashful or myself to blame
For rougher years, and knelt like one denied,
And kissed his brow and called him by his name;
But he no syllable to all replied.
For rougher years, and knelt like one denied,
And kissed his brow and called him by his name;
But he no syllable to all replied.
Then did I fling in petulant despair
A flowery handful at him with: “Away!”—
“Farewell,” he said—and with a smile so fair,
It rankles in my heart unto this day!
A flowery handful at him with: “Away!”—
“Farewell,” he said—and with a smile so fair,
It rankles in my heart unto this day!
252
EYES, SAD AND SWEET
Sad eyes, some say because you are so sweet
Love carols like a lark in your blue heaven,
And flashes forth in song, and soars to meet
The morning sun what time the mists are riven.
Love carols like a lark in your blue heaven,
And flashes forth in song, and soars to meet
The morning sun what time the mists are riven.
Some say, dear eyes, because you are so bright
Fanciful lightnings thrill whoe'er you greet,
Your splendour pierces with faint pain, your light
Consumes like fire, because you are so sweet.
Fanciful lightnings thrill whoe'er you greet,
Your splendour pierces with faint pain, your light
Consumes like fire, because you are so sweet.
Sweet eyes! I say because you are so sad
You touch us thro' the heart of all our sorrow,
Transforming grief to music, and the mad
Processions of despair men call “to-morrow”
You touch us thro' the heart of all our sorrow,
Transforming grief to music, and the mad
Processions of despair men call “to-morrow”
Into a heaven of hopes that lightly throng
Like birds thro' the far winter of our tears,
Waking the gloomy woodlands into song
And brushing with their wings the windless meres.
Like birds thro' the far winter of our tears,
Waking the gloomy woodlands into song
And brushing with their wings the windless meres.
253
TO THE UNKNOWN GOD
Out of all hours of woe,
Weary at heart,
Worn with life-orisons, lonely, apart,
Still unto Thee we go,
Thou whom we fain would know,
Cry unto Thee without end, without art.
Weary at heart,
Worn with life-orisons, lonely, apart,
Still unto Thee we go,
Thou whom we fain would know,
Cry unto Thee without end, without art.
Out of the clouds that roll
Round us, above,
Still we stretch obstinate arms for Thy love:
Loud though the tempest toll,
Love, cries the wilful soul,
Broods silver-winged o'er the waste like a dove.
Round us, above,
Still we stretch obstinate arms for Thy love:
Loud though the tempest toll,
Love, cries the wilful soul,
Broods silver-winged o'er the waste like a dove.
254
TO THE MUSE OF MEASURED VERSE
On the Occasion of Adopting New Forms
O Muse, I said, your tenderest refrain(Muse of soft lullaby and lispéd rhyme)
Sing for my farewell song, who from this time
Must steer my bark upon a stormier main.
My sail is set. I know not if again
Under your shoreward boughs in Spring's sweet prime
I'll glide, or dream to the soft rippling chime
The calm struck from my keel. Henceforth I strain
My lyre to Life's profounder diapason:
The rhythm of ocean-waves o'erruns my strings—
Of waves which over harbour-wall and bason
The flooding tide inevitably flings;
On whose high crests new-freighted vessels hasten
To music of the wind's tempestuous wings.
255
THE SMITH AND THE KING
A smith upon a summer's day
Did call upon a King;
The King exclaimed, “The Queen's away,
Can I do anything?”
Did call upon a King;
The King exclaimed, “The Queen's away,
Can I do anything?”
“I pray you can,” the Smith replied;
“I want a bit of bread.”
“Why?” cried the King. The fellow sighed:
“I'm hungry, sire,” he said.
“I want a bit of bread.”
“Why?” cried the King. The fellow sighed:
“I'm hungry, sire,” he said.
“Dear me! I'll call my Chancellor,
He understands such things;
Your claims I cannot cancel, or
Deem them fit themes for kings.”
He understands such things;
Your claims I cannot cancel, or
Deem them fit themes for kings.”
“Sir Chancellor, why here's a wretch
Starving—like rats or mice!”
The Chancellor replied, “I'll fetch
The First Lord in a trice.”
Starving—like rats or mice!”
The Chancellor replied, “I'll fetch
The First Lord in a trice.”
The First Lord came, and by his look
You might have guessed he'd shirk;
Said he, “Your Majesty's mistook,
This is the Chief Clerk's work.”
You might have guessed he'd shirk;
Said he, “Your Majesty's mistook,
This is the Chief Clerk's work.”
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The Chief Clerk said the case was bad,
But quite beyond his power,
Seeing it was the Steward had
The keys of cake and flour.
But quite beyond his power,
Seeing it was the Steward had
The keys of cake and flour.
The Steward wept; “The keys I've lost,”
Said he; “but in a span
I'll call the Smith. Why, Holy Ghost!
Here is the very man.”
Said he; “but in a span
I'll call the Smith. Why, Holy Ghost!
Here is the very man.”
“Hurrah! hurrah!” they loudly cried,
“How cleverly we've done it!
We've solved this question deep and wide,
Well nigh ere we'd begun it.”
“How cleverly we've done it!
We've solved this question deep and wide,
Well nigh ere we'd begun it.”
“Thanks!” said the Smith; “O fools and vile:
Go moulder on the shelf!
The next time I am starving I'll
Take care to help myself.”
Go moulder on the shelf!
The next time I am starving I'll
Take care to help myself.”
257
ENGLAND, ARISE!
England, arise! The long long night is over,
Faint in the east behold the dawn appear;
Out of your evil dream of toil and sorrow
Arise, O England, for the day is here.
From your fields and hills
Hark! the answer swells:
Arise, O England, for the day is here.
Faint in the east behold the dawn appear;
Out of your evil dream of toil and sorrow
Arise, O England, for the day is here.
From your fields and hills
Hark! the answer swells:
Arise, O England, for the day is here.
Long, long have been the anguish and the labour,
Dark, dark the clouds of unbelief unrolled,
Dreadful the night when no man trusted neighbour,
Shameful the nightmare-greed of gain and gold;
Yet from fields and hills
Hark! the song now swells:
Arise, O England, for the day is here.
Dark, dark the clouds of unbelief unrolled,
Dreadful the night when no man trusted neighbour,
Shameful the nightmare-greed of gain and gold;
Yet from fields and hills
Hark! the song now swells:
Arise, O England, for the day is here.
By your young children's eyes so red with weeping,
By their white faces aged with want and fear,
By the dark cities where your babes are creeping
Naked of joy and all that makes life dear;
From your wretched slums
A voice of pity comes:
Arise, O England, for the day is here.
By their white faces aged with want and fear,
By the dark cities where your babes are creeping
Naked of joy and all that makes life dear;
From your wretched slums
A voice of pity comes:
Arise, O England, for the day is here.
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By all your workshops where men sweat and sicken,
Foredone to death, in toil and hope deferred,
Where cheeks are flushed and pulses start and quicken,
Not with glad life but by dark hatred stirred;
From each bench and forge
A sound comes like a surge:
Arise, O England, for the day is here.
Foredone to death, in toil and hope deferred,
Where cheeks are flushed and pulses start and quicken,
Not with glad life but by dark hatred stirred;
From each bench and forge
A sound comes like a surge:
Arise, O England, for the day is here.
By your high homes of wealth and wasteful living,
By your rich tables piled, without good cheer,
By the ennui, ill-health, and sickly striving—
Not great to be, but only to appear;
O'er the weary throng
Strangely floats the song:
Arise, O England, for the day is here.
By your rich tables piled, without good cheer,
By the ennui, ill-health, and sickly striving—
Not great to be, but only to appear;
O'er the weary throng
Strangely floats the song:
Arise, O England, for the day is here.
By your rich orchards, lands of corn and pasture,
Where all day long the voice of joy should ring,
Now mute and desert, by land-grabbers wasted,
Robbed of the love the peasant longs to bring;
From the stricken land
Hark! the words ascend:
Arise, O England, for the day is here.
Where all day long the voice of joy should ring,
Now mute and desert, by land-grabbers wasted,
Robbed of the love the peasant longs to bring;
From the stricken land
Hark! the words ascend:
Arise, O England, for the day is here.
People of England, all your valleys call you,
High in the rising sun the lark sings clear;
Will you dream on, let shameful slumber thrall you?
Will you disown your native land so dear?
Shall it die unheard—
That sweet pleading word?
Arise, O England, for the day is here.
High in the rising sun the lark sings clear;
Will you dream on, let shameful slumber thrall you?
Will you disown your native land so dear?
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That sweet pleading word?
Arise, O England, for the day is here.
Over your face a web of lies is woven,
Law that are falsehoods pin you to the ground;
Labour is mocked, its just reward is stolen,
On its bent back sits Idleness encrowned;
How long, while you sleep,
Your harvest shall it reap?
Arise, O England, for the day is here.
Law that are falsehoods pin you to the ground;
Labour is mocked, its just reward is stolen,
On its bent back sits Idleness encrowned;
How long, while you sleep,
Your harvest shall it reap?
Arise, O England, for the day is here.
Out of your ruin rich men thrive and fatten,
Your merchants rub their hands when food is dear,
Capital says your claims are not forgotten
If wages keep you just starvation-clear;
People of England, when
Will ye rise like men?
Rise and be freemen, for the day is here!
Your merchants rub their hands when food is dear,
Capital says your claims are not forgotten
If wages keep you just starvation-clear;
People of England, when
Will ye rise like men?
Rise and be freemen, for the day is here!
Hear, England, hear! Deliverance is within you;
Though like a man whom death is very near,
Though sick the head, the whole heart faint within you,
Dare to be true!—and even from the bier
Where your body lies
A new life shall arise,
England shall rise again to life sincere.
Though like a man whom death is very near,
Though sick the head, the whole heart faint within you,
Dare to be true!—and even from the bier
Where your body lies
A new life shall arise,
England shall rise again to life sincere.
260
Yet thus I warn you: long shall be the struggle,
Not one but many men in it shall die;
This cancerous disease and devil's juggle
Shall not pass in the twinkling of an eye;
To undo their wrong
The people shall strive long:
O that they fail not! for the day is here.
Not one but many men in it shall die;
This cancerous disease and devil's juggle
Shall not pass in the twinkling of an eye;
To undo their wrong
The people shall strive long:
O that they fail not! for the day is here.
Forth then, ye heroes, patriots and lovers!
Comrades of danger, poverty and scorn!
Mighty in faith of Freedom, your great Mother,
Giants refreshed in joy's new-rising morn!
Come and swell the song
Silent now so long—
England is risen and the Day is here!
Comrades of danger, poverty and scorn!
Mighty in faith of Freedom, your great Mother,
Giants refreshed in joy's new-rising morn!
Come and swell the song
Silent now so long—
England is risen and the Day is here!
| Sketches from Life in Town and Country | |