Ballads for the Times (Now first collected,) Geraldine, A Modern Pyramid, Bartenus, A Thousand Lines, and other poems. By Martin F. Tupper. A new Edition, enlarged and revised |
 |
|
 |
|
“Non Angli sed Angeli.”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 | Ballads for the Times |  |
“Non Angli sed Angeli.”
Ho! ye swift messengers out of the North,
Mercy's ambassadors,—haste to go forth!
Speedily let your broad sails be unfurl'd,
Winging your errand all over the world,
Wafting your message of peace and goodwill,
Brotherhood, godliness, science, and skill!
Mercy's ambassadors,—haste to go forth!
Speedily let your broad sails be unfurl'd,
Winging your errand all over the world,
Wafting your message of peace and goodwill,
Brotherhood, godliness, science, and skill!
Ye are the salt of the earth, and its health,—
Ye are its gladness, its wisdom, and wealth,—
Ye are its glory! O Britain, thy sons,
Thy stout Anglo-Saxons, thy resolute ones,
Ever triumphant on every shore,
Are only triumphant for Good evermore!
Ye are its gladness, its wisdom, and wealth,—
Ye are its glory! O Britain, thy sons,
Thy stout Anglo-Saxons, thy resolute ones,
Ever triumphant on every shore,
Are only triumphant for Good evermore!
Ministers bright of the bounties of God,
Where is the land by these angels untrod?
Tell it out, Africa, China, and Scinde,
And Isles of the Sea, and the uttermost Inde,
Tell out their zeal, and their grandeur of soul,
From the sands of the Line, to the snows of the Pole!
Where is the land by these angels untrod?
Tell it out, Africa, China, and Scinde,
And Isles of the Sea, and the uttermost Inde,
Tell out their zeal, and their grandeur of soul,
From the sands of the Line, to the snows of the Pole!
127
Tell out the goodness, the greatness, the grace,
That follow their footsteps in every place!
Tell it out, thou, the first cradle of Man,
Teeming with millions, serene Hindostan,—
Tell how fair commerce, and just-dealing might,
Have blest thee with peace, and adorn'd thee with light!
That follow their footsteps in every place!
Tell it out, thou, the first cradle of Man,
Teeming with millions, serene Hindostan,—
Tell how fair commerce, and just-dealing might,
Have blest thee with peace, and adorn'd thee with light!
Boundless Australia, help of the age,
And heirloom of hope on Futurity's page,
Lo! thy vast continent, silent and sad,
With the song of the Saxon has learnt to be glad;
Rejoicing to change the wild waste and the fen
Into wide-waving harvests and cities of men!
And heirloom of hope on Futurity's page,
Lo! thy vast continent, silent and sad,
With the song of the Saxon has learnt to be glad;
Rejoicing to change the wild waste and the fen
Into wide-waving harvests and cities of men!
Mighty Columbia, Star of the West,
See, 'tis a world by the Saxon possest!
Glorious and glad, from the North to the South,
Your millions praise God with an Englishman's mouth!
And all love a land where at home they would be,
England, old England, the Home of the Free!
See, 'tis a world by the Saxon possest!
Glorious and glad, from the North to the South,
Your millions praise God with an Englishman's mouth!
And all love a land where at home they would be,
England, old England, the Home of the Free!
Dotted about on the width of the world,
Her beacon is blazing, her flag is unfurl'd;
Not a shore, not a sea, not a deep desert wild,
But pays its mute homage to Energy's child,—
Not a realm, not a people, or kingdom, or clan,
But owns him the chief of the children of Man!
Her beacon is blazing, her flag is unfurl'd;
Not a shore, not a sea, not a deep desert wild,
But pays its mute homage to Energy's child,—
Not a realm, not a people, or kingdom, or clan,
But owns him the chief of the children of Man!
The foaming Atlantic hath render'd its isles,
And the dark Caribbean its tropical smiles,
And Southern Pacific those many-hued flowers,
And Europe's Mid-Ocean these temples and towers,—
Their tribute the seas of Old India bring,
And Borneo is proud of her new British King!
And the dark Caribbean its tropical smiles,
128
And Europe's Mid-Ocean these temples and towers,—
Their tribute the seas of Old India bring,
And Borneo is proud of her new British King!
Yes! for dear Britain, the Mother of Men,
Rules all, under God, by the sword and the pen:
She is the Delphi, the heart of the earth,
The rock-rushing spring of humanity's worth;
And, if two hemispheres prosper, the cause
Lies in old England's Religion and Laws!
Rules all, under God, by the sword and the pen:
She is the Delphi, the heart of the earth,
The rock-rushing spring of humanity's worth;
And, if two hemispheres prosper, the cause
Lies in old England's Religion and Laws!
Yes! for her realm is the Goshen of light;
The wings of these Angels have scatter'd the night!
Duteous and daring, as beauteous and strong,
They are helpers of Right, and avengers of Wrong,
Fair in their souls as their eyes and their locks,
Stout in their hearts as their oaks and their rocks!
The wings of these Angels have scatter'd the night!
Duteous and daring, as beauteous and strong,
They are helpers of Right, and avengers of Wrong,
Fair in their souls as their eyes and their locks,
Stout in their hearts as their oaks and their rocks!
| Ballads for the Times | |