St. Augustine's Holiday and Other Poems By William Alexander |
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THE DERRY STATUE TO THE MEMORY OF SIR R. A. FERGUSON, M.P.
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THE DERRY STATUE TO THE MEMORY OF SIR R. A. FERGUSON, M.P.
Ah, raise it up—
Raise up the statue in the storied town;
Make it a sign of sorrow and renown,
Like flags that tell us where a ship went down.
Raise up the statue in the storied town;
Make it a sign of sorrow and renown,
Like flags that tell us where a ship went down.
Ah, raise it up—
Raise up the statue in the quiet square;
Crowning the street that rises, like a stair,
Up from the river in the gloom or glare.
Raise up the statue in the quiet square;
Crowning the street that rises, like a stair,
Up from the river in the gloom or glare.
And let it front
At eve or dawn, or with a nameless charm
Of mystic darkness on its folded arm,
The Foyle that brims and brightens by the Farm.
At eve or dawn, or with a nameless charm
Of mystic darkness on its folded arm,
The Foyle that brims and brightens by the Farm.
Why raise it up?
Where are the great lines there that we may seek,
As of the statesman with pale brow and cheek,
As of the senator in act to speak?
Where are the great lines there that we may seek,
As of the statesman with pale brow and cheek,
As of the senator in act to speak?
Not such are here,
If life-drawn truth have moulded it; not such,
If inspiration, by some happy touch,
Have stamp'd in bronze the presence loved so much.
If life-drawn truth have moulded it; not such,
If inspiration, by some happy touch,
Have stamp'd in bronze the presence loved so much.
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Yet raise it up.
Methinks the shaggy brow speaks honest scorn,
And sharp and kindly as a frosty morn
Is the man's wholesome influence reborn.
Methinks the shaggy brow speaks honest scorn,
And sharp and kindly as a frosty morn
Is the man's wholesome influence reborn.
Ah, raise it up—
Show us the rugged gentleness, the true eyes
Of him who never wrought for place or prize,
Who lack'd the golden eloquence—that lies!
Show us the rugged gentleness, the true eyes
Of him who never wrought for place or prize,
Who lack'd the golden eloquence—that lies!
Ah, raise it up—
And let it tell, as far as sculpture can,
For those who have congenial hearts to scan,
The noble quietness of an honest man.
And let it tell, as far as sculpture can,
For those who have congenial hearts to scan,
The noble quietness of an honest man.
Yet scarcely tell
The lines that gather on that kindly brow,
The cares that wither and the pains that bow—
He has forgotten them, and we will now.
The lines that gather on that kindly brow,
The cares that wither and the pains that bow—
He has forgotten them, and we will now.
And often here,
Come from the heather'd hill, where ever higher,
Summer by summer, creeps the yellow fire
Of the ripe corn right up the mountain's spire—
Come from the heather'd hill, where ever higher,
Summer by summer, creeps the yellow fire
Of the ripe corn right up the mountain's spire—
And often here,
When in the busy square the parted meet,
Peasant and stately gentleman shall greet
A face they know, a presence sadly sweet.
When in the busy square the parted meet,
Peasant and stately gentleman shall greet
A face they know, a presence sadly sweet.
Ah me! ah me!
The souls in white, who with a single aim
Have wrought or thought for us, they may not claim
Or care to hear the echoes of their name.
The souls in white, who with a single aim
Have wrought or thought for us, they may not claim
Or care to hear the echoes of their name.
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They may not heed
If men remember them or not below—
Earth's bells are muffled for them as with snow,
Perchance unheard o'er the dark river's flow.
If men remember them or not below—
Earth's bells are muffled for them as with snow,
Perchance unheard o'er the dark river's flow.
Yet raise it up—
Raise up the statue, in this land and time,
When to tell truth heads all the lists of crime,
And lives are low, and only words sublime.
Raise up the statue, in this land and time,
When to tell truth heads all the lists of crime,
And lives are low, and only words sublime.
| St. Augustine's Holiday and Other Poems | |