The bard, and minor poems By John Walker Ord ... Collected and edited by John Lodge |
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THE CONSTITUTION-CITADEL! |
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 | The bard, and minor poems |  |
THE CONSTITUTION-CITADEL!
Ten thousand gallant Englishmen,
The noblest of the land,
When Freedom's hopes yet tower'd on high
And sceptred was her hand,
Swore they would rear a citadel—
That brave heroic band.
The noblest of the land,
When Freedom's hopes yet tower'd on high
And sceptred was her hand,
Swore they would rear a citadel—
That brave heroic band.
Hard granite from the mountain rock,
Huge oak-trees from the hill,
The richest marbles of the earth,
Were furnished at their will,
Till proud uprose that mighty pile—
Our glorious citadel!
Huge oak-trees from the hill,
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Were furnished at their will,
Till proud uprose that mighty pile—
Our glorious citadel!
Great gladness swept through England
When the giant thing was done;
The princely Barons met and swore
That hallow'd was each stone,
And crown'd and sceptred came the King
And planted there his Throne!
When the giant thing was done;
The princely Barons met and swore
That hallow'd was each stone,
And crown'd and sceptred came the King
And planted there his Throne!
The heavens look'd down applaudingly,
And the rivers laughed in pride;
Our valleys, rich with plenty,
Pour'd forth wealth on every side;
Whilst the thunder of her cannon
Scatter'd terror far and wide!
And the rivers laughed in pride;
Our valleys, rich with plenty,
Pour'd forth wealth on every side;
Whilst the thunder of her cannon
Scatter'd terror far and wide!
Then crouch'd the Northern tiger—
The Gallic eagle fled;
And the vast empire of the sea
Obey'd her martial tread:
Then Trafalgar and Waterloo
Bore her victorious dead.
The Gallic eagle fled;
And the vast empire of the sea
Obey'd her martial tread:
Then Trafalgar and Waterloo
Bore her victorious dead.
The Constitution-Citadel
A thousand winters stood;
The people banded round its walls
The great, the wise, the good!
And Freedom's sacred monument
Was still unstained with blood.
A thousand winters stood;
The people banded round its walls
The great, the wise, the good!
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Was still unstained with blood.
But one fell night, when distant were
The brave who loved it well,
The fiendish ranks of treason seiz'd
That glorious citadel;
The traitors spiked its cannon,
And the haughty fabric fell!
The brave who loved it well,
The fiendish ranks of treason seiz'd
That glorious citadel;
The traitors spiked its cannon,
And the haughty fabric fell!
Then rose the yell of massacre,
And Carnage shriek'd for gore;
The King was butcher'd on his throne,
And his snowy locks they tore,
And the little altar where he pray'd
Was never heard of more.
And Carnage shriek'd for gore;
The King was butcher'd on his throne,
And his snowy locks they tore,
And the little altar where he pray'd
Was never heard of more.
Those barons bold, who freedom won
At glorious Runnymede;
At Cressy and at Agincourt
For liberty did bleed,
Were murder'd all or burnt alive,
By that inhuman breed.
At glorious Runnymede;
At Cressy and at Agincourt
For liberty did bleed,
Were murder'd all or burnt alive,
By that inhuman breed.
War stalk'd o'er merry England,
And murder revell'd then;
Gaunt Famine glutton'd joyously
On twice ten thousand men;
Whilst Carnage fed on innocents
In his accursed den!
And murder revell'd then;
Gaunt Famine glutton'd joyously
On twice ten thousand men;
Whilst Carnage fed on innocents
In his accursed den!
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Oh! warning take, brave Englishmen—
A citadel remains!
And King and Constitution
Still hold the victor's reins.
Up! up!—be firm!—or fall! and rot
In Treason's fiery chains!
A citadel remains!
And King and Constitution
Still hold the victor's reins.
Up! up!—be firm!—or fall! and rot
In Treason's fiery chains!
| The bard, and minor poems | |