 | The Poetical Works of Robert Story |  |
294
E'en now, when the Winds.
1848.
[_]
[Written after the French Revolution of this year, which sent his Majesty, the late Louis Phillippe, into exile.]
E'en now—when the winds have dispelled the dark smoke,
And the sun shines again as it previously shone;
When the Earthquake is over, whose terrible shock
Made chaff of a Dynasty, dust of a Throne!—
And the sun shines again as it previously shone;
When the Earthquake is over, whose terrible shock
Made chaff of a Dynasty, dust of a Throne!—
E'en now—when the pulse of the generous beats high
With hope for the future of France and of Man,
And the sanguine believe that an era draws nigh
To shame the most brilliant since nations began!—
With hope for the future of France and of Man,
And the sanguine believe that an era draws nigh
To shame the most brilliant since nations began!—
E'en now do I turn to my own Native Land,
With a love all the prouder for all I behold;
And exult in a Freedom not based in the sand,
But built on a rock, and more fixed as more old!—
With a love all the prouder for all I behold;
And exult in a Freedom not based in the sand,
But built on a rock, and more fixed as more old!—
A Freedom which is not the spoil of an hour,
Achieved by one impulse, and lost if that dies;
But the prize of long struggles, and left—a rich dower—
To ourselves and our sons by progenitors wise!—
Achieved by one impulse, and lost if that dies;
But the prize of long struggles, and left—a rich dower—
To ourselves and our sons by progenitors wise!—
A Freedom which keeps us within the safe mean,
Which limits our contests to party alone;
A statesman cashiers—not imperils the Queen,
A cabinet shakes—not unfixes the Throne!
Which limits our contests to party alone;
A statesman cashiers—not imperils the Queen,
A cabinet shakes—not unfixes the Throne!
295
A Freedom which laughs at equality, but
Its posts and its honours throws open to all;
Whence a Briton may draw his first breath in the hut,
And, rising to greatness, may die in the hall!—
Its posts and its honours throws open to all;
Whence a Briton may draw his first breath in the hut,
And, rising to greatness, may die in the hall!—
A Freedom which holds this fair Island in peace,
When strife and dismay over Europe are hurled;
And which—guarded by patriots—never shall cease
To shed its calm light through the storms of the world!
When strife and dismay over Europe are hurled;
And which—guarded by patriots—never shall cease
To shed its calm light through the storms of the world!
| The Poetical Works of Robert Story | |