 | Poems by a Painter |  |
96
WAR-SONG.
1854.
I
Ha! once againO'er land and main
Our battle-flag is flying!
Ha! once again
Our freeborn men
In Freedom's cause are dying!
The grand old Lion's up once more,
True to his kingly nature;
Come not between him and his prey,
Slave, coward, fool, or traitor!
Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!
The Old Land's true as ever!
No despot's foot shall trample Us,
Or those who trust us—Never!
97
II
Have recreants saidOur hearts are dead
To justice and to glory?
Cried “Stand aloof!”
Though Russia's hoof
In Europe's blood wax gory?
Theirs be their country's hate and scorn
Through all the coming ages!
Well have they plied their trade of shame—
'Tis right they have their wages!
But, Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!
Our hearts are true as ever!
No despot's foot shall tread on Us,
Or those who trust us—Never!
III
But tears must fall,In hut and hall,
For loved ones unreturning,—
98
Who bled to save
The land from deeper mourning!
They bled!—we weep!—But in our task
Sublime, we dare not falter:
To guard from shame the sacred flame
On Freedom's glorious altar!
No—No!—Hurrah! Hurrah!
The Old Land's true as ever!
God's arm of might will shield the right!
Then strike! This hour—or Never!
IV
Yes, though we weepFor those who sleep
By Alma's doleful water,
And those who died
In that wild ride
Of unavailing slaughter,
Still we exult; for in our veins
99
And east or north we'll pour it forth,
Where'er the charge is sounding!
Then, Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!
The Old Land's true as ever!
No despot's foot shall trample Us,
Or those who trust us—Never!
| Poems by a Painter | |