 | The Poetical Works of Andrew Lang |  |
145
A Jubilee Ode
The
Illustrated London News
Beholds her jubilee:
How memory brings back the views
Of old she showed to me!
Beholds her jubilee:
How memory brings back the views
Of old she showed to me!
I see the pictures from afar
That pleased a child's sick-bed—
The woodcuts of the Russian war,
The fields we daubed with red.
That pleased a child's sick-bed—
The woodcuts of the Russian war,
The fields we daubed with red.
An unacknowledged painter, I
Improved the artist's work—
How very blue I made the sky,
How very brown the Turk!
Improved the artist's work—
How very blue I made the sky,
How very brown the Turk!
O pictured page! O happy age!
O combinations quaint!
An empire's agony, the rage
Of war, were things to paint!
O combinations quaint!
An empire's agony, the rage
Of war, were things to paint!
That old, disinterested art
Of ours has passed away;
We primitifs endure our part
In the world's brawl to-day.
Of ours has passed away;
We primitifs endure our part
In the world's brawl to-day.
146
But younger children yet may list
With penny paints to mar
The bombshell of the anarchist,
The flames of social war.
With penny paints to mar
The bombshell of the anarchist,
The flames of social war.
Long is the pictured chronicle
Of peace, of war, or mirth;
A wondrous tale the woodcuts tell
Of changes on the earth.
Of peace, of war, or mirth;
A wondrous tale the woodcuts tell
Of changes on the earth.
Through every land goes forth her hand—
The Illustrated News;
In temples of Roraima stand
Framed fragments of her views.
The Illustrated News;
In temples of Roraima stand
Framed fragments of her views.
Her pictures are the people's book,
Those the unlettered please;
And gladly on her pages look
The Zulus and Chinese.
Those the unlettered please;
And gladly on her pages look
The Zulus and Chinese.
Whate'er stand fast, long may she last,
Long may her works remain!
On far-off fields long may she cast
The fertile chaff of Payn!
Long may her works remain!
On far-off fields long may she cast
The fertile chaff of Payn!
A bard, who does not oft torment
A somewhat faded muse
These elements of ode hath sent
To hymn the London News.
A somewhat faded muse
These elements of ode hath sent
To hymn the London News.
| The Poetical Works of Andrew Lang | |