 | Griselda |  |
303
IO! PÆAN!
Ho, brother-bands, ho, sister-lands, take heart and fight it out!
The plighted word, the sacred sword shall bear us through the bout:
On the flags that flaunt together the Star of Victory smiles,
Hurrah, for the golden Lilies and the Lion of the Isles!
The plighted word, the sacred sword shall bear us through the bout:
On the flags that flaunt together the Star of Victory smiles,
Hurrah, for the golden Lilies and the Lion of the Isles!
Ho! tyrant of the icy North, quake in thy leaguered town,
For shot and shout tell loudly out thy granite hold is down!
Ho! brothers of the English blood, ho! gallant friends of France,
Bear on the golden Lilies, and the Lion-flag advance!
For shot and shout tell loudly out thy granite hold is down!
Ho! brothers of the English blood, ho! gallant friends of France,
Bear on the golden Lilies, and the Lion-flag advance!
304
But now the echo of the fight came to us from the North;
At Sweaborg's fort a work was wrought whereto we sent ye forth;
And high o'er grim Sebastopol, good fleet and gallant files,
Flutter the golden Lilies, and the Lion of the Isles!
At Sweaborg's fort a work was wrought whereto we sent ye forth;
And high o'er grim Sebastopol, good fleet and gallant files,
Flutter the golden Lilies, and the Lion of the Isles!
No more that robber's hold frowns down on Servian and Turk,
Victoria the Good hath razed bad Catharine's brigand work.
Ill match, God wot, for Russian shot, for Russian lies and wiles,
Against the golden Lilies and the Lion of the Isles!
Victoria the Good hath razed bad Catharine's brigand work.
Ill match, God wot, for Russian shot, for Russian lies and wiles,
Against the golden Lilies and the Lion of the Isles!
Where rides the caitiff armament that swept an empty sea?
Where are the butchers of Sinoub? even where their victims be!
Sunk in the wave they swore to rule;—foul weed the flag defiles
That braved the golden Lilies, and the Lion of the Isles!
Where are the butchers of Sinoub? even where their victims be!
305
That braved the golden Lilies, and the Lion of the Isles!
Say, have the twelve months taught ye, Czars, that till their work be done,
The sword of England goes not up, France standeth to her gun?
Send thy hordes forth, King of the North! but learn, proud fool, the whiles,
Slaves cannot stay the Lilies and the Lion of the Isles.
The sword of England goes not up, France standeth to her gun?
Send thy hordes forth, King of the North! but learn, proud fool, the whiles,
Slaves cannot stay the Lilies and the Lion of the Isles.
Well done, Nineteenth! well fought of all! brothers, the story comes,
The proud praise of your generals is echoed in your homes,
And well those homes shall welcome ye, whene'er with conquering smiles
Ye bring us back the Lilies and the Lion of the Isles.
The proud praise of your generals is echoed in your homes,
306
Ye bring us back the Lilies and the Lion of the Isles.
Stand to it then, though storm and plague rave horror to the fight,
God striketh hard for him whose sword is drawn upon the right;
Think this, and still, with steadfast will, rival the earnest hands
Who heretofore as bravely bore the Banners of the Lands.
God striketh hard for him whose sword is drawn upon the right;
Think this, and still, with steadfast will, rival the earnest hands
Who heretofore as bravely bore the Banners of the Lands.
Our dead sleep deeper: he whose sword Silistria's safety won,
Who took the death upon his brow, and fell before his gun.
Arnaud, and gallant Giffard, and the chief who latest died
For the Lion and the Lily-flags, the Black Sea wave beside.
Who took the death upon his brow, and fell before his gun.
307
For the Lion and the Lily-flags, the Black Sea wave beside.
No nore the Hango slayers make their deed a boast and brag,
Grimly they tell how many fell to wash that stained white flag:
How that for every murdered man went down a hundred files
Before the gay French Lilies, and the Lion of the Isles.
Grimly they tell how many fell to wash that stained white flag:
How that for every murdered man went down a hundred files
Before the gay French Lilies, and the Lion of the Isles.
For them and ye one Victory is won, and won aright,
Hand joined in hand, land true to land, shall bring us through the fight;
On the flags that flaunt together the star of conquest smiles,—
Hurrah, for the golden Lilies and the Lion of the Isles!
Hand joined in hand, land true to land, shall bring us through the fight;
308
Hurrah, for the golden Lilies and the Lion of the Isles!
But, hark! above her people's shout, silencing gun and drum,
Our good Queen's gracious words of thanks and pious prayer are come;
Bend low the knee, cry Victory!—her own fairomened name;
But give unto the God of Hosts its glory and its fame.
Our good Queen's gracious words of thanks and pious prayer are come;
Bend low the knee, cry Victory!—her own fairomened name;
But give unto the God of Hosts its glory and its fame.
| Griselda | |