 | English Roses |  |
CROMWELL.
Destined man of iron, man of blood,
Riding on red revolution's flood
To the haven which the craven
Never reached who crawled through mud;
In thy pillared grandeur standing lone,
Not on pedestal of carven stone,
But in greatness and sedateness
Of the doings that enthrone;
Thou dost need no passing bust or line,
Nor the shadow of the awful shrine,
Thou whose story is the glory
Of a mandate most divine.
Riding on red revolution's flood
To the haven which the craven
Never reached who crawled through mud;
In thy pillared grandeur standing lone,
Not on pedestal of carven stone,
But in greatness and sedateness
Of the doings that enthrone;
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Nor the shadow of the awful shrine,
Thou whose story is the glory
Of a mandate most divine.
Thou art written on the broadest page
Of our brightest one heroic age,
When the martyrs won our charters,
Walking on the world as stage;
Thou art first among the foremost men,
Who with no unequal sword or pen,
Conquering treasure beyond measure,
Brought new truths into our ken;
Thou hast wrought for this imperial race
Something more than common meed or grace,
Living actions, not for factions,
But for every time and place.
Of our brightest one heroic age,
When the martyrs won our charters,
Walking on the world as stage;
Thou art first among the foremost men,
Who with no unequal sword or pen,
Conquering treasure beyond measure,
Brought new truths into our ken;
Thou hast wrought for this imperial race
Something more than common meed or grace,
Living actions, not for factions,
But for every time and place.
Destined man of visions, with a lot
Hammered of eternity red-hot
To the stature of a nature
Dread in splendour and in spot;
Thou didst but for God His battles fight,
Not for party, in the solemn light
Of the seeing which was being
And put on immortal might;
Builded on the Everlasting Rock,
Native to thee and of one same block,
Thou hast beaconed on our weakened
Wills alike in shade and shock.
Hammered of eternity red-hot
To the stature of a nature
Dread in splendour and in spot;
Thou didst but for God His battles fight,
Not for party, in the solemn light
Of the seeing which was being
And put on immortal might;
Builded on the Everlasting Rock,
Native to thee and of one same block,
Thou hast beaconed on our weakened
Wills alike in shade and shock.
Live for ever in the larger mind
Of our England and all humankind,
By the beauty of that duty
Done, which left its breath behind.
Who shall compass thy august intents,
And thy thoughts' untravelled continents,
Thou the maker and the breaker
Of mere kings and parliaments?
Fate was stamped on thy tremendous brow
Clothed with thunder, and its lightning now
Is the token thou hast spoken,
Words at which yet nations bow.
Of our England and all humankind,
By the beauty of that duty
Done, which left its breath behind.
Who shall compass thy august intents,
And thy thoughts' untravelled continents,
Thou the maker and the breaker
Of mere kings and parliaments?
Fate was stamped on thy tremendous brow
Clothed with thunder, and its lightning now
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Words at which yet nations bow.
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