My Lyrical Life Poems Old and New. By Gerald Massey |
 | 1. |
|
|
|
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
|
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| 2. |
|
|
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
|
|
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
|
|
THE PEOPLE'S ADVENT. |
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
|
|
 | My Lyrical Life |  |
226
THE PEOPLE'S ADVENT.
'Tis coming up the steep of Time,
And this old world is growing brighter!
We may not see its Dawn sublime,
Yet high hopes make the heart throb lighter!
Our dust may slumber under-ground
When it awakes the world in wonder;
But we have felt it gathering round!—
We have heard its voice of distant thunder!
'Tis Coming! yes, 'tis Coming!
And this old world is growing brighter!
We may not see its Dawn sublime,
Yet high hopes make the heart throb lighter!
Our dust may slumber under-ground
When it awakes the world in wonder;
But we have felt it gathering round!—
We have heard its voice of distant thunder!
'Tis Coming! yes, 'tis Coming!
'Tis coming now, that glorious time
Foretold by Seers and sung in story,
For which, when thinking was a crime,
Souls leaped to heaven from scaffolds gory!
They passed. But lo! the work they have wrought,
Now the crowned hopes of Centuries blossom!
The lightning of their living thought
Is flashing through us, brain and bosom:
'Tis Coming! yes, 'tis Coming!
Foretold by Seers and sung in story,
For which, when thinking was a crime,
Souls leaped to heaven from scaffolds gory!
They passed. But lo! the work they have wrought,
Now the crowned hopes of Centuries blossom!
The lightning of their living thought
Is flashing through us, brain and bosom:
'Tis Coming! yes, 'tis Coming!
Creeds, Empires, Systems, rot with age,
But the great People's ever youthful!
And it shall write the Future's page
To our Humanity more truthful;
The gnarliest heart hath tender chords
To waken at the name of “Brother!”
'Tis coming when these scorpion-words
We shall not speak to sting each other.
'Tis Coming! yes, 'tis Coming!
But the great People's ever youthful!
And it shall write the Future's page
To our Humanity more truthful;
227
To waken at the name of “Brother!”
'Tis coming when these scorpion-words
We shall not speak to sting each other.
'Tis Coming! yes, 'tis Coming!
Out of the light, you Priests, nor fling
Your dark, cold shadows on us longer!
Aside, thou world-wide curse, called King!
The people's step is quicker, stronger!
There's a Divinity within
That makes men great if they but will it;
God works with all who dare to win,
And the time cometh to reveal it.
'Tis Coming! yes, 'tis Coming!
Your dark, cold shadows on us longer!
Aside, thou world-wide curse, called King!
The people's step is quicker, stronger!
There's a Divinity within
That makes men great if they but will it;
God works with all who dare to win,
And the time cometh to reveal it.
'Tis Coming! yes, 'tis Coming!
Freedom! the Despots kill thy braves,
Yet in our memories live the sleepers;
And, though doomed millions feed the graves
Dug by death's fierce, red-handed Reapers,
The World will not forever bow
To things that mock God's own endeavour.
'Tis nearer than they wot of now,
When Flowers shall wreathe their Sword for ever!
'Tis Coming! yes, 'tis Coming!
Yet in our memories live the sleepers;
And, though doomed millions feed the graves
Dug by death's fierce, red-handed Reapers,
The World will not forever bow
To things that mock God's own endeavour.
'Tis nearer than they wot of now,
When Flowers shall wreathe their Sword for ever!
'Tis Coming! yes, 'tis Coming!
Fraternity! Love's other name!
Dear, heaven-connecting link of being;
Then shall we grasp thy golden dream,
As souls, full-statured, grow far-seeing:
Thou shalt unfold our better part,
And in our life-cup yield more honey;
Light up with joy the Poor Man's heart,
And Love's own world with smiles more sunny!
'Tis Coming! yes, 'tis Coming!
Dear, heaven-connecting link of being;
Then shall we grasp thy golden dream,
As souls, full-statured, grow far-seeing:
Thou shalt unfold our better part,
And in our life-cup yield more honey;
Light up with joy the Poor Man's heart,
And Love's own world with smiles more sunny!
'Tis Coming! yes, 'tis Coming!
228
Aye, it must come! The Tyrants throne
Is crumbling, with our hot tears rusted;
The Sword earth's mighty have leant on
Is cankered, with our best blood crusted.
Room for the men of Mind! Make way
You Robber Rulers!—pause no longer!
You cannot stay the opening day!
The world rolls on, the light grows stronger—
The People's Advent's coming!
Is crumbling, with our hot tears rusted;
The Sword earth's mighty have leant on
Is cankered, with our best blood crusted.
Room for the men of Mind! Make way
You Robber Rulers!—pause no longer!
You cannot stay the opening day!
The world rolls on, the light grows stronger—
The People's Advent's coming!
| My Lyrical Life | |