The Poetical Works of George Barlow In Ten [Eleven] Volumes |
I. |
II. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
VII. |
VIII. |
IX. |
X. |
XI. |
XII. |
XIII. |
XIV. |
XV. |
XVI. |
XVII. |
XVIII. |
XIX. |
XX. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
VII. |
VIII. |
IX. |
X. |
XI. |
The Poetical Works of George Barlow | ||
138
IV. CHRIST, AND THE POOR MAN
Satan.
All thou see'st of splendour and of sweetness,
Gulf and river, rock and wood and wave,
All that wealth can bring life of completeness,
If thou wilt but trust me, thou shalt have.
Gulf and river, rock and wood and wave,
All that wealth can bring life of completeness,
If thou wilt but trust me, thou shalt have.
Man.
I am happy in my humble garden,
Happy 'mid the red geraniums there:
Happy, when the good God breathes his pardon
And his blessing down the starlit air.
Happy 'mid the red geraniums there:
Happy, when the good God breathes his pardon
And his blessing down the starlit air.
Satan.
Pardon! not of God need'st thou crave pardon:
Rather let him pardon ask of thee.
Why should thine hands change to horn and harden,
While another lives in luxury?
Rather let him pardon ask of thee.
Why should thine hands change to horn and harden,
While another lives in luxury?
139
Yet the unequal lot is God's appointing.
Happier am I in my humble sphere
Than the Pope, for all his proud anointing,
Or the king with courtiers at his ear.
Happier am I in my humble sphere
Than the Pope, for all his proud anointing,
Or the king with courtiers at his ear.
Satan.
King thou art by right. The rich man's slumbers
One day shall thy legions rudely break.
True, the wealth is his. But thou hast numbers.
Strike! for thy seduced sad daughters' sake.
One day shall thy legions rudely break.
True, the wealth is his. But thou hast numbers.
Strike! for thy seduced sad daughters' sake.
Man.
That thought maddens. That, and that thought only
Drives the avenging blood to heart and head—
That the rich man leaves his wife's couch lonely
While he wantons in a work-girl's bed.
Drives the avenging blood to heart and head—
That the rich man leaves his wife's couch lonely
While he wantons in a work-girl's bed.
Satan.
King thou art,—the sole true monarch, doubtless.
Had the myriads of the northern Czar
Seen this sooner, his red hand were knoutless,
And their hands had snapped each prison-bar.
Had the myriads of the northern Czar
Seen this sooner, his red hand were knoutless,
And their hands had snapped each prison-bar.
140
Dreams of fierce and blood-stained revolution,
These are born of darkness and of thee.
We retain, through Europe's wild confusion,
Hearts made clear by sunshine and the sea.
These are born of darkness and of thee.
We retain, through Europe's wild confusion,
Hearts made clear by sunshine and the sea.
Satan.
Yes: the sea is free. Its waves would cheer you
Onward to the final grim attack.
Think what boundless wealth is ever near you!
What a city London were to sack!
Onward to the final grim attack.
Think what boundless wealth is ever near you!
What a city London were to sack!
Man.
Yet the Thames, with its strong eddying waters
Curling downward to the sea's blue plain,
Seems to plead for English wives and daughters.
Shall we make it blood-red like the Seine?
Curling downward to the sea's blue plain,
Seems to plead for English wives and daughters.
Shall we make it blood-red like the Seine?
Satan.
Wives and daughters! when did ever wealthy
Strong man, covetous of girl or bride,
Hesitate by violent means or stealthy
To abduct your weak one from your side?
Strong man, covetous of girl or bride,
Hesitate by violent means or stealthy
To abduct your weak one from your side?
141
Yet I look for days of equal measures,
Work for all men, healthy homes for each:
Laws to guard the poor man's best loved treasures—
Daughter, wife, and liberty of speech.
Work for all men, healthy homes for each:
Laws to guard the poor man's best loved treasures—
Daughter, wife, and liberty of speech.
Satan.
These are going, unless you bestir you.
Sword and bayonet, truncheon, gag, and chain;
Workhouse-prisons wherein to inter you
Living; these the gifts are ye will gain.
Sword and bayonet, truncheon, gag, and chain;
Workhouse-prisons wherein to inter you
Living; these the gifts are ye will gain.
Man.
If the end be this, not ever thunder
Through the midnight with such fury rolled
As will wild revolt, while weak fools wonder,
Through the long streets where they hide their gold.
Through the midnight with such fury rolled
As will wild revolt, while weak fools wonder,
Through the long streets where they hide their gold.
Satan.
Grand! let every continental nation,
Awe-struck at the English workmen's might,
Watch the multitudinous devastation
And the balefires flashing through the night.
Awe-struck at the English workmen's might,
Watch the multitudinous devastation
And the balefires flashing through the night.
142
If it ever comes to such an issue,
Deadly, desperate, will the mad fight be.
Down will crumble walls like paper tissue,
When hoarse riot charges like the sea.
Deadly, desperate, will the mad fight be.
Down will crumble walls like paper tissue,
When hoarse riot charges like the sea.
Satan.
Famous! I will head the workmen rallying
Through the Parks and Squares with banners red.
When the Life-Guards through their gates come sallying,
Whitehall shall be choked with cuirassed dead!
Through the Parks and Squares with banners red.
When the Life-Guards through their gates come sallying,
Whitehall shall be choked with cuirassed dead!
Man.
Never Paris saw so fierce a battle
Through its long and sanguine-tinted days.
When the Guards' drums through the dense fog rattle,
We'll reply by our revolvers' blaze.
Through its long and sanguine-tinted days.
When the Guards' drums through the dense fog rattle,
We'll reply by our revolvers' blaze.
Satan.
Princely! that will be a noble sample
To the nations round, and yet to be.
English artizans shall set the example.
Let the surging red flags follow me!
To the nations round, and yet to be.
English artizans shall set the example.
Let the surging red flags follow me!
143
Then the rich man's foot within his garden
In his brother's blood perchance shall slip.
Stately duchesses shall sue for pardon,
Kneeling 'mid our ranks with ashen lip.
In his brother's blood perchance shall slip.
Stately duchesses shall sue for pardon,
Kneeling 'mid our ranks with ashen lip.
Satan.
Glorious! when the captured girls are waiting,
While their fathers' hot blood licks the sewers,
Splashing red down gutter and through grating,
I will whisper, “What of girls of yours?”
While their fathers' hot blood licks the sewers,
Splashing red down gutter and through grating,
I will whisper, “What of girls of yours?”
Man.
This is certain—If that day of thunder
Ever breaks on London, those who see
Will behold hell's barriers burst asunder,
Fiends unchained, and raging devils free.
Ever breaks on London, those who see
Will behold hell's barriers burst asunder,
Fiends unchained, and raging devils free.
Christ.
Satan, when the hell-gates leap asunder,
Dreading lest some flippant sword-edge scar,
Fearful lest some heedless bullet blunder,
Safe will lurk, observing from afar!
Dreading lest some flippant sword-edge scar,
Fearful lest some heedless bullet blunder,
Safe will lurk, observing from afar!
The Poetical Works of George Barlow | ||