 | Poems |  |
169
POEMS WRITTEN DURING THE RUSSIAN WAR 1854, 1855
171
‘WHAT THOUGH YET THE SPIRIT SLUMBERS.’
What though yet the spirit slumbers
That should clothe great acts in song,
Stirring but in feeble numbers,
Loosening but a stammering tongue;
That should clothe great acts in song,
Stirring but in feeble numbers,
Loosening but a stammering tongue;
Still, as well my soul presages,
Mightier voices soon will sound,
Which shall ring through all the ages,
While the nations listen round.
Mightier voices soon will sound,
Which shall ring through all the ages,
While the nations listen round.
For even now the thoughts are waking,
And the deeds are being done,
Deeds and thoughts, the poet's making,
Whence his solemn heart is won.
And the deeds are being done,
Deeds and thoughts, the poet's making,
Whence his solemn heart is won.
If Thermopylæ's three hundred,
They who kept the pass so well,—
If at them all time has wondered,
As they fought, and as they fell,
They who kept the pass so well,—
If at them all time has wondered,
As they fought, and as they fell,
With their deed of duty cast they
Our six hundred in the shade,
When at that same bidding passed they
To their closing death-parade?
Our six hundred in the shade,
When at that same bidding passed they
To their closing death-parade?
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Let them their due praise inherit,
Those of weaker woman-kind,
Who in times past owned a spirit,
Which has left man's strength behind;
Those of weaker woman-kind,
Who in times past owned a spirit,
Which has left man's strength behind;
Yet our hearts and hearts' devotion
Wait upon that noble train,
Who have crossed the distant ocean
For a fellowship with pain;
Wait upon that noble train,
Who have crossed the distant ocean
For a fellowship with pain;
Seeking, as men seek for riches,
Painful vigils by the bed
Where the maimed and dying stretches
Aching limbs beside the dead:
Painful vigils by the bed
Where the maimed and dying stretches
Aching limbs beside the dead:
And for this great suffering nation
Sealed those fountains shall not prove,
Those old springs of inspiration,
Mighty death, and mightier love.
Sealed those fountains shall not prove,
Those old springs of inspiration,
Mighty death, and mightier love.
But meanwhile, the pauses filling,
Till that deeper soul be stirred,
Mother-land, thou wilt be willing
That some fainter notes be heard.
Till that deeper soul be stirred,
Mother-land, thou wilt be willing
That some fainter notes be heard.
What if thou in bitter mourning
Dost beside the graves recline
Of thy last and unreturning,
Yet no Rachel's grief is thine.
Dost beside the graves recline
Of thy last and unreturning,
Yet no Rachel's grief is thine.
Stately grief, not wild and tameless,
Thine, the privileged to see
Gentle, simple, named and nameless,
Willing all to die for thee;
Thine, the privileged to see
Gentle, simple, named and nameless,
Willing all to die for thee;
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Foremost names in thine old story,
Foremost in these death-rolls shown,
Heirs no more of others' glory,
But the makers of their own.
Foremost in these death-rolls shown,
Heirs no more of others' glory,
But the makers of their own.
Thy great mother-heart is bleeding,
Torn and piercëd through and through,
Post on heavy post succeeding,
Bearing each some anguish new.
Torn and piercëd through and through,
Post on heavy post succeeding,
Bearing each some anguish new.
Yet the right thy bosom strengthens,
Nought in thee of courage dies,
Though the long sad death-roll lengthens,
Ever lengthens in thine eyes.
Nought in thee of courage dies,
Though the long sad death-roll lengthens,
Ever lengthens in thine eyes.
These are gone; thou nursest others
Of the same heroic breed,
Good as they, their spirits' brothers,
To their hazards to succeed.
Of the same heroic breed,
Good as they, their spirits' brothers,
To their hazards to succeed.
Then, while this thy grief's proud fashion,
From all weakness far removed,
This thy steadfast solemn passion
By the graves of thy beloved,
From all weakness far removed,
This thy steadfast solemn passion
By the graves of thy beloved,
Thou wilt let him pass unchidden,
Wilt perchance vouchsafe an ear,
Who too weakly and unbidden
Dares to sound their praises here;
Wilt perchance vouchsafe an ear,
Who too weakly and unbidden
Dares to sound their praises here;
This slight tribute of his bringing
Thou wilt not in scorn put by;
And wilt pardon one for singing,
While so many do and die.
Thou wilt not in scorn put by;
And wilt pardon one for singing,
While so many do and die.
174
ALMA.
Though till now ungraced in story, scant although thy waters be,
Alma, roll those waters proudly, proudly roll them to the sea.
Alma, roll those waters proudly, proudly roll them to the sea.
Yesterday unnamed, unhonoured, but to wandering Tartar known,
Now thou art a voice for ever, to the world's four corners blown.
Now thou art a voice for ever, to the world's four corners blown.
In two nations' annals graven, thou art now a deathless name,
And a star for ever shining in their firmament of fame.
And a star for ever shining in their firmament of fame.
Many a great and ancient river, crowned with city, tower, and shrine,
Little streamlet, knows no magic, boasts no potency like thine;
Little streamlet, knows no magic, boasts no potency like thine;
Cannot shed the light thou sheddest around many a living head,
Cannot lend the light thou lendest to the memories of the dead.
Cannot lend the light thou lendest to the memories of the dead.
Yea, nor all unsoothed their sorrow, who can, proudly mourning, say—
When the first strong burst of anguish shall have wept itself away—
When the first strong burst of anguish shall have wept itself away—
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‘He has past from us, the loved one; but he sleeps with them that died
By the Alma, at the winning of that terrible hillside.’
By the Alma, at the winning of that terrible hillside.’
Yes, and in the days far onward, when we all are calm as those,
Who beneath thy vines and willows on their hero-beds repose,
Who beneath thy vines and willows on their hero-beds repose,
Thou on England's banners blazoned with the famous fields of old,
Shalt, where other fields are winning, wave above the brave and bold:
Shalt, where other fields are winning, wave above the brave and bold:
And our sons unborn shall nerve them for some great deed to be done,
By that twentieth of September, when the Alma's heights were won.
By that twentieth of September, when the Alma's heights were won.
O thou river! dear for ever to the gallant, to the free,
Alma, roll thy waters proudly, proudly roll them to the sea.
Alma, roll thy waters proudly, proudly roll them to the sea.
176
SONNET.
[Together lay them in one common grave]
Together lay them in one common grave,These noble sons of England and of France,
Who side by side did yesterday advance,
And to their foes a dear example gave
Of what a freeman's worth beyond a slave.
Theirs was a noble fellowship in life,
They breathed their lives out in one glorious strife;
Then let them lie, the brave beside the brave.
And sleep with them, for evermore to cease,
Sleep with the sleep which no awaking knows,
The long contention of eight hundred years:
While from their ashes the fair tree of peace
Springs, under which two nations may repose
In love which ancient discord more endears.
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AFTER THE BATTLE.
We crowned the hard-won heights at length,
Baptized in flame and fire;
We saw the foeman's sullen strength,
That grimly made retire;
Baptized in flame and fire;
We saw the foeman's sullen strength,
That grimly made retire;
Saw close at hand, and then more far,
Beneath the battle smoke
The ridges of his shattered war,
That broke and ever broke.
Beneath the battle smoke
The ridges of his shattered war,
That broke and ever broke.
But one, an English household's pride,
Dear many ways to me,
Who climbed that death-path by my side,
I sought, but could not see—
Dear many ways to me,
Who climbed that death-path by my side,
I sought, but could not see—
Last seen, what time our foremost rank
That iron tempest tore;
He touched, he scaled the rampart bank,
Seen then, and seen no more.
That iron tempest tore;
He touched, he scaled the rampart bank,
Seen then, and seen no more.
One friend to aid, I measured back
With him that pathway dread;
No fear to wander from our track
Its waymarks English dead.
With him that pathway dread;
No fear to wander from our track
Its waymarks English dead.
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Light thickened; but our search was crowned,
As we too well divined;
And after briefest quest we found
What we most feared to find.
As we too well divined;
And after briefest quest we found
What we most feared to find.
His bosom with one death-shot riven,
The warrior boy lay low;
His face was turned unto the heaven,
His feet unto the foe.
The warrior boy lay low;
His face was turned unto the heaven,
His feet unto the foe.
As he had fall'n upon the plain,
Inviolate he lay;
No ruffian spoiler's hand profane
Had touched that noble clay.
Inviolate he lay;
No ruffian spoiler's hand profane
Had touched that noble clay.
And precious things he still retained,
Which by one distant hearth,
Loved tokens of the loved, had gained
A worth beyond all worth.
Which by one distant hearth,
Loved tokens of the loved, had gained
A worth beyond all worth.
I treasured these for them who yet
Knew not their mighty woe;
I softly sealed his eyes, and set
One kiss upon his brow.
Knew not their mighty woe;
I softly sealed his eyes, and set
One kiss upon his brow.
A decent grave we scooped him, where
Less thickly lay the dead,
And decently composed him there
Within that narrow bed.
Less thickly lay the dead,
And decently composed him there
Within that narrow bed.
Oh theme for manhood's bitter tears,
The beauty and the bloom
Of less than twenty summer years
Shut in that darksome tomb!
The beauty and the bloom
Of less than twenty summer years
Shut in that darksome tomb!
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Of soldier sire the soldier son—
Life's honoured eventide
One lives to close in England, one
In maiden battle died;
Life's honoured eventide
One lives to close in England, one
In maiden battle died;
And they that should have been the mourned,
The mourners' parts obtain:
Such thoughts were ours, as we returned
To earth its earth again.
The mourners' parts obtain:
Such thoughts were ours, as we returned
To earth its earth again.
Brief words we read of faith and prayer
Beside that hasty grave;
Then turned away, and left him there,
The gentle and the brave;
Beside that hasty grave;
Then turned away, and left him there,
The gentle and the brave;
I calling back with thankful heart,
With thoughts to peace allied,
Hours when we two had knelt apart
Upon the lone hill-side:
With thoughts to peace allied,
Hours when we two had knelt apart
Upon the lone hill-side:
And, comforted, I praised the grace,
Which him had led to be
An early seeker of that Face,
Which he should early see.
Which him had led to be
An early seeker of that Face,
Which he should early see.
180
SONNET.
[From what of passion and of earthly pride]
From what of passion and of earthly pride,Presumptuous confidence and glory vain,
Will cleave to justest cause which men sustain,
Till Thou their cause and them hast purified,
From what too much of these Thou hast espied
In us, oh! cleanse us from this dangerous leaven,
At any cost, oh! purge us, righteous Heaven,
Though we herein be sorely searched and tried.
So, purified from these, may we fulfil,
Upon thy strength relying, not our own,
The dreadful sentence of thy righteous will;
And this by us unto the nations shown,
May burn no incense to our drag, but still
All honour give to Thee, and Thee alone.
181
BALAKLAVA.
Many a deed of faithful daring may obtain no record here,
Wrought where none could see or note it, save the one Almighty Seer.
Wrought where none could see or note it, save the one Almighty Seer.
Many a deed, awhile remembered, out of memory needs must fall,
Covered, as the years roll onward, by oblivion's creeping pall:
Covered, as the years roll onward, by oblivion's creeping pall:
But there are which never, never, to oblivion can give room,
Till in flame earth's records perish, till the thunderpeal of doom:
Till in flame earth's records perish, till the thunderpeal of doom:
And of these through all the ages married to immortal fame,
One is linked, and linked for ever, Balaklava, with thy name;
One is linked, and linked for ever, Balaklava, with thy name;
With thine armies three that wond'ring stood at gaze and held their breath,
With thy fatal lists of honour, and thy tournament of death.
With thy fatal lists of honour, and thy tournament of death.
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O our brothers that are sleeping, weary with your great day's strife,
On that bleak Crimean headland, noble prodigals of life,
On that bleak Crimean headland, noble prodigals of life,
Eyes which ne'er beheld you living, these shall dearly mourn you dead,
All your squandered wealth of valour, all the lavish blood ye shed.
All your squandered wealth of valour, all the lavish blood ye shed.
And in our eyes tears are springing; but we bid them back again;
None shall say, to see us weeping, that we hold your offering vain;
None shall say, to see us weeping, that we hold your offering vain;
That for nothing, in our sentence, did that holocaust arise,
With a battle-field for altar, and with you for sacrifice.
With a battle-field for altar, and with you for sacrifice.
Not for nought; to more than warriors armed as you for mortal fray,
Unto each that in life's battle waits his Captain's word ye say—
Unto each that in life's battle waits his Captain's word ye say—
‘What by duty's voice is bidden, there where duty's star may guide,
Thither follow, that accomplish, whatsoever else betide.’
Thither follow, that accomplish, whatsoever else betide.’
This ye taught; and this your lesson solemnly in blood ye sealed:
Heroes, martyrs, are the harvest Balaklava's heights shall yield.
Heroes, martyrs, are the harvest Balaklava's heights shall yield.
183
SONNET.
[Yes, let us own it in confession free]
Yes, let us own it in confession free,That when we girt ourselves to quell the wrong,
We deemed it not so giant-like and strong,
But it with our slight effort thought to see
Pushed from its base; yea, almost deemed that we,
Champions of right, might be excused the price
Of pain, and loss, and large self-sacrifice,
Set ever on high things by Heav'n's decree.
What if this work's great hardness was concealed
From us, until so far upon our way
That no escape remained us, no retreat,—
Lest, being at an earlier hour revealed,
We might have shrunk too weakly from the heat,
And shunned the burden of this fiery day?
184
Η ΤΑΝ, Η ΕΠΙ ΤΑΝ.
[‘This, or on this;—Bring home with thee this shield]
‘This, or on this;—Bring home with thee this shield,
Or be thou, dead, upon this shield brought home’—
So spake the Spartan mother to her son
Whom her own hands had armed. Oh strong of heart!
And famed through all the ages for that word!
Yet know I of a fairer strength than hers—
Strength linked with weakness, steeped in tears and fears,
And tenderness of trembling womanhood;
But true as hers to duty's perfect law.
Or be thou, dead, upon this shield brought home’—
So spake the Spartan mother to her son
Whom her own hands had armed. Oh strong of heart!
And famed through all the ages for that word!
Yet know I of a fairer strength than hers—
Strength linked with weakness, steeped in tears and fears,
And tenderness of trembling womanhood;
But true as hers to duty's perfect law.
And such is theirs, who in our England now,
Wives, sisters, mothers, watch by day, by night,
In many a cottage, many a stately hall,
For those dread posts, too slow, too swift, that haste
O'er land and sea, the messengers of doom;
Theirs, who ten thousand times would rather hear
Of loved forms stretched upon the bloody sod,
All cold and stark, but with the debt they owed
To that dear land that bore them duly paid,
Than look to enfold them in strict arms again,
By aught in honour's or in peril's path
Unduly shunned, for that embrace reserved.
Wives, sisters, mothers, watch by day, by night,
In many a cottage, many a stately hall,
For those dread posts, too slow, too swift, that haste
O'er land and sea, the messengers of doom;
Theirs, who ten thousand times would rather hear
Of loved forms stretched upon the bloody sod,
All cold and stark, but with the debt they owed
To that dear land that bore them duly paid,
Than look to enfold them in strict arms again,
By aught in honour's or in peril's path
Unduly shunned, for that embrace reserved.
185
INKERMAN.
SUNDAY, NOV. 5, 1854.
Cheerly with us that dread November morn
Rose, as I trace its features in my mind;
A day that in the lap of winter born,
Yet told of autumn scarcely left behind.
Rose, as I trace its features in my mind;
A day that in the lap of winter born,
Yet told of autumn scarcely left behind.
And we by many a hearth in all the land,
Whom quiet sleep had lapped the calm night through,
Changed greetings, lip with lip, and hand to hand,
Old greetings, but which love makes ever new.
Whom quiet sleep had lapped the calm night through,
Changed greetings, lip with lip, and hand to hand,
Old greetings, but which love makes ever new.
Then, as the day brought with it sweet release
From this world's care, with timely feet we trod
The customary paths of blessed peace;
We worshipped in the temples of our God;
From this world's care, with timely feet we trod
The customary paths of blessed peace;
We worshipped in the temples of our God;
And when the sun had travelled his brief arc,
Drew round our hearths again in thankful ease:
With pleasant light we chased away the dark,
We sat at eve with children round our knees.
Drew round our hearths again in thankful ease:
With pleasant light we chased away the dark,
We sat at eve with children round our knees.
So fared this day with us:—but how with you?
What, gallant hosts of England, was your cheer,
Who numbered hearts as gentle and as true
As any kneeling at our altars here?
What, gallant hosts of England, was your cheer,
Who numbered hearts as gentle and as true
As any kneeling at our altars here?
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From cheerless watches on the cold dank ground
Startled, ye felt a foe on every side;
With mist and gloom and deaths encompassed round
With even to perish in the light denied.
Startled, ye felt a foe on every side;
With mist and gloom and deaths encompassed round
With even to perish in the light denied.
And that same season of our genial ease,
It was your very agony of strife;
While each of those our golden moments sees
With you the ebbing of some noble life.
It was your very agony of strife;
While each of those our golden moments sees
With you the ebbing of some noble life.
'Mid dark ravines, by precipices vast,
Did there and here your dreadful conflict sway:
No Sabbath day's light work to quell at last
The fearful odds of that unequal fray.
Did there and here your dreadful conflict sway:
No Sabbath day's light work to quell at last
The fearful odds of that unequal fray.
Oh ‘hope’ of England, only not ‘forlorn,’
Because ye never your own hope resigned,
But in worst case, beleaguered, overborne,
Did help in God and in your own selves find;
Because ye never your own hope resigned,
But in worst case, beleaguered, overborne,
Did help in God and in your own selves find;
We greet you o'er the waves, as from this time
Men, to the meanest and the least of whom,
In reverence of fortitude sublime,
We would rise up, and yield respectful room:
Men, to the meanest and the least of whom,
In reverence of fortitude sublime,
We would rise up, and yield respectful room:
We greet you o'er the waves, nor doubt to say,
Our Sabbath setting side by side with yours,
Yours was the better and the nobler day,
And days like it have made that ours endures.
Our Sabbath setting side by side with yours,
Yours was the better and the nobler day,
And days like it have made that ours endures.
187
THE UNFORGOTTEN.
Whom for thy race of heroes wilt thou own,
And, England, who shall be thy joy, thy pride?
As thou art just, oh then not those alone
Who nobly conquering lived, or conquering died.
And, England, who shall be thy joy, thy pride?
As thou art just, oh then not those alone
Who nobly conquering lived, or conquering died.
Them also in thy roll of heroes write,
For well they earned what best thou canst bestow,
Who being girt and armëd for the fight,
Yielded their arms, but to no mortal foe.
For well they earned what best thou canst bestow,
Who being girt and armëd for the fight,
Yielded their arms, but to no mortal foe.
Far off they pined on fever-stricken coast,
Or sank in sudden arms of painful death;
And faces which their eyes desired the most,
They saw not, as they drew their parting breath.
Or sank in sudden arms of painful death;
And faces which their eyes desired the most,
They saw not, as they drew their parting breath.
Sad doom, to know a mighty work in hand,
Which shall from all the ages honour win;
Upon the threshold of this work to stand,
Arrested there, while others enter in.
Which shall from all the ages honour win;
Upon the threshold of this work to stand,
Arrested there, while others enter in.
And this was theirs; they saw their fellows bound
To fields of fame which they might never share;
And all the while within their own hearts found
A strength that was not less, to do and dare:
To fields of fame which they might never share;
And all the while within their own hearts found
A strength that was not less, to do and dare:
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But knew that never, never with their peers,
They should salute some grand day's glorious close,
The shout of triumph ringing in their ears
The light of battle shining on their brows.
They should salute some grand day's glorious close,
The shout of triumph ringing in their ears
The light of battle shining on their brows.
Sad doom;—yet say not Heaven to them assigned
A lot from all of glory quite estranged:
Albeit the laurel which they hoped to bind
About their brows for cypress wreath was changed.
A lot from all of glory quite estranged:
Albeit the laurel which they hoped to bind
About their brows for cypress wreath was changed.
Heaven gave to them a glory stern, austere,
A glory of all earthly glory shorn;
With firm heart to accept fate's gift severe,
Bravely to bear the thing that must be borne;
A glory of all earthly glory shorn;
With firm heart to accept fate's gift severe,
Bravely to bear the thing that must be borne;
To see such visions fade and turn to nought,
And in this saddest issue to consent;
If only the great work were duly wrought,
That others should accomplish it, content.
And in this saddest issue to consent;
If only the great work were duly wrought,
That others should accomplish it, content.
Then as thou wouldst thyself continue great,
Keep a true eye for what is great indeed;
Nor know it only in its lofty state
And victor's robes, but in its lowliest weed.
Keep a true eye for what is great indeed;
Nor know it only in its lofty state
And victor's robes, but in its lowliest weed.
And now, and when this dreadful work is done,
England, be these too thy delight and pride;
Wear them as near thy heart as any one
Of all who conquering lived, or conquering died.
England, be these too thy delight and pride;
Wear them as near thy heart as any one
Of all who conquering lived, or conquering died.
189
ON THE BREAKING OFF OF THE CONFERENCES AT VIENNA, JUNE, 1855.
Heart of England, faltering never in the good time or the ill,
But thy great day's task of duty strong and patient to fulfil;
But thy great day's task of duty strong and patient to fulfil;
Men of England, constant ever, to your own plain instincts true,
Praise the Giver of all good things for the gift He gave to you;
Praise the Giver of all good things for the gift He gave to you;
Praise the Giver of all good things, praise the Giver of the best,
Of a firm heart firmly beating in a strong resolvëd breast.
Of a firm heart firmly beating in a strong resolvëd breast.
Praise Him that, when others faltered, ye continued at one stay,
Praise Him that the hour of weakness has for ever passed away.
Praise Him that the hour of weakness has for ever passed away.
To her cancelled scroll of greatness none shall now set England's name;
What she sowed in tears and anguish she shall never reap in shame.
What she sowed in tears and anguish she shall never reap in shame.
190
Lift your heads up, O ye weepers; from the dust yourselves arouse;
Chase away the double sadness that was gathering on your brows.
Chase away the double sadness that was gathering on your brows.
Lift your heads up, O ye weepers; those that were your joy and pride,
Those whom you must weep for ever, not for nothing shall have died.
Those whom you must weep for ever, not for nothing shall have died.
If the crown of all your gladness has been stricken from your head,
If, discrowned, ye mourn in ashes for your unreturning dead,
If, discrowned, ye mourn in ashes for your unreturning dead,
Not to purchase shameful baffling at a higher dearer rate
Than our fathers purchased honour, were your homes made desolate.
Than our fathers purchased honour, were your homes made desolate.
For oh! hearken ye, and hearken, all who still retain delight
In the old land's fiery valour, in the victories of right;
In the old land's fiery valour, in the victories of right;
List, oh! list, what tales of triumph flash the magic wires along,
Long delayed, now each on other in a swift succession throng.
Long delayed, now each on other in a swift succession throng.
First-fruits of a mightier harvest, preludes of a loftier strain,
Pledges of a part well chosen, stir our hearts again, again;
Pledges of a part well chosen, stir our hearts again, again;
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Till in his good time He give us, who has proved and purified,
Who has shamed our shallow boasting, who has tamed our guilty pride,
Who has shamed our shallow boasting, who has tamed our guilty pride,
Till He give us, when the giving shall not lift us up nor spoil,
All we sought, the ample guerdon of a nation's tears and toil.
All we sought, the ample guerdon of a nation's tears and toil.
192
TO ---
In huts and palaces are mourners found,As on the far-off fields of death in turn
Leap the dread lots from fortune's fatal urn:
And those not yet in cords of sorrow bound,
But listening everywhere the doleful sound
Of others' griefs, still ask, Who next shall mourn,
Of brother, son, or dearer yet forlorn?
To whom shall next the cup of pain go round?
We know not; if anon to thee and me,
Let not our hearts then chide us that we heard
Of pangs, which other souls did search and try,
To this their anguish yielding, it might be,
The trivial offering of a passing sigh,
While all our deeper heart remained unstirred.
193
THE RETURN OF THE GUARDS.
JULY, 1856.
Two years—an age of glory and of pain!—
Since we with blessings and with shouts and tears,
And with high hopes pursued your parting train,
With everything but fears.
Since we with blessings and with shouts and tears,
And with high hopes pursued your parting train,
With everything but fears.
Forth from beside our hearths we saw you pass,
And guessed that battle must be stern and strong;
War's shapes we saw,—but dimly, in a glass,—
Its shapes of wrath and wrong.
And guessed that battle must be stern and strong;
War's shapes we saw,—but dimly, in a glass,—
Its shapes of wrath and wrong.
We saw not, Heaven in mercy did not show,
The fiery squadron rushing to its doom,
An army in its winding-sheet of snow,
Nor Varna's charnel tomb.
The fiery squadron rushing to its doom,
An army in its winding-sheet of snow,
Nor Varna's charnel tomb.
We saw not Scutari's heaped up agonies,
Nor those blest hands and hearts that brought relief;
Splendours and glooms were hidden from our eyes,—
What glory and what grief!
Nor those blest hands and hearts that brought relief;
Splendours and glooms were hidden from our eyes,—
What glory and what grief!
One thing we saw, one only thing we knew,
Come what come might, ye would not bring to shame
The loved land which had trusted thus to you
Its wealth of ancient fame.
Come what come might, ye would not bring to shame
The loved land which had trusted thus to you
Its wealth of ancient fame.
194
Therefore the old land greets you, whose renown
In face of friend and foe ye well upbore,
Handing the treasure of its glory down
Not poorer than before.
In face of friend and foe ye well upbore,
Handing the treasure of its glory down
Not poorer than before.
And greets you first, as owing you the most,
The Lady, whose transcendant diadem,
Unless she ruled brave men, would cease to boast
Its best and fairest gem.
The Lady, whose transcendant diadem,
Unless she ruled brave men, would cease to boast
Its best and fairest gem.
But ah! if through her bosom there is sent,
Nor hers alone, a throb of piercing pain,
With tearful memories of the brave who went,
And come not now again,
Nor hers alone, a throb of piercing pain,
With tearful memories of the brave who went,
And come not now again,
Of all who made a holy land for aye,
(Such consecration is in glorious graves),
Of that bleak barren headland far away,
Foamed round by Euxine waves;
(Such consecration is in glorious graves),
Of that bleak barren headland far away,
Foamed round by Euxine waves;
Yet shall this sadness presently depart,
Leaving undimmed the splendour of this hour;
We rather thanking Heaven with grateful heart
For their high gift and dower,
Leaving undimmed the splendour of this hour;
We rather thanking Heaven with grateful heart
For their high gift and dower,
Who, ending well, have passed beyond the range
Of our mutations; whom no spot or stain
Can now touch ever; for whom chance and change
Not any more remain.
Of our mutations; whom no spot or stain
Can now touch ever; for whom chance and change
Not any more remain.
Shout then, ye people; let glad thoughts have way;
Shout, and in these their absent fellows greet,—
Yea, all who shared with them, of that fierce day
The burden and the heat.
Shout, and in these their absent fellows greet,—
Yea, all who shared with them, of that fierce day
The burden and the heat.
195
Nor yet forget that when in coming time
By many an English hearth shall men recall
This two-years' chronicle of deeds sublime,
Then first, perchance, of all,
By many an English hearth shall men recall
This two-years' chronicle of deeds sublime,
Then first, perchance, of all,
They, talking of dread Inkerman, shall tell,
When that wild storm of fight had passed away,
How thick by those low mounds they kept so well
The noble Bearskins lay.
When that wild storm of fight had passed away,
How thick by those low mounds they kept so well
The noble Bearskins lay.
| Poems | |