 | Claribel and Other Poems |  |
BE THYSELF
England! be thyself again:
Lift thy life before the world,
Like a royal flag unfurl'd
High above the tented plain.
Lift thy life before the world,
Like a royal flag unfurl'd
High above the tented plain.
England! be thyself again:
Think of thy old hero deeds;
They were promises and seeds,—
Were they pledged and sown in vain?
Think of thy old hero deeds;
They were promises and seeds,—
Were they pledged and sown in vain?
Raise thy spirit from the mire:
Peace and plenteous bread are good;
But true Honour needeth food,
Peace owns Righteousness her sire.
Peace and plenteous bread are good;
But true Honour needeth food,
Peace owns Righteousness her sire.
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Ne'er so plenteously fed,
Duty to the world remains:
Shalt thou only count thy gains
While the lands in chains are led?
Duty to the world remains:
Shalt thou only count thy gains
While the lands in chains are led?
Doth the clank of prisoners' bonds
Hurt no more the English ear?
Is it England knoweth fear?
Cromwell's England that desponds?
Hurt no more the English ear?
Is it England knoweth fear?
Cromwell's England that desponds?
Careless of the Captive's moan,
Fearful of Oppression's strength,
Doubting if our sword have length,
If the quarrel is our own?—
Fearful of Oppression's strength,
Doubting if our sword have length,
If the quarrel is our own?—
England! be again thyself.
Brave forbearance may be wise:
This poor craft of Cowardice
Cowering in the hole of Pelf
Brave forbearance may be wise:
This poor craft of Cowardice
Cowering in the hole of Pelf
Saveth neither pence nor toil,
Gaineth but a shameful hour,
Wherein Wrong takes breath of power
And so tighteneth the coil.
Gaineth but a shameful hour,
Wherein Wrong takes breath of power
And so tighteneth the coil.
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England! be thyself again:
Ask not what may serve the time;
See where standeth Truth sublime,
Ask her will, and be thou fain.
Ask not what may serve the time;
See where standeth Truth sublime,
Ask her will, and be thou fain.
If her bidding must be war,
Gird thy sword upon thy thigh;
Shout to the heavens thy battle-cry;
Let thy voice be heard afar,
Gird thy sword upon thy thigh;
Shout to the heavens thy battle-cry;
Let thy voice be heard afar,
Heralding the sunny gleam
Of thy swift and steady blade,
Leaping through the realms dismay'd,
As the daylight cleaves a dream.
Of thy swift and steady blade,
Leaping through the realms dismay'd,
As the daylight cleaves a dream.
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