The Anniversaries Poems in Commemoration of Great Men and Great Events. By Thomas H. Gill |
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October 28.
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October 28.
ALFRED THE GREAT.
O bring the fulness of thy heart to-day!
Thy tenderest song, enamoured England, sing!
O let no glorious passion keep away,
No strongly smitten chord refuse to ring!
Thy tenderest song, enamoured England, sing!
O let no glorious passion keep away,
No strongly smitten chord refuse to ring!
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Win from each glory of thy raiment bright
A strain for him of old who robëd thee!
Yes, pour o'er all thy beauty and thy might
A sweet strain of melodious memory!
A strain for him of old who robëd thee!
Yes, pour o'er all thy beauty and thy might
A sweet strain of melodious memory!
Still gracious in thy sight abides thy throne?
Thy saint, thy sage, thy hero was thy king:
Not all the tyrants that have sate thereon
Have worn away thine Alfred's hallowing.
Thy saint, thy sage, thy hero was thy king:
Not all the tyrants that have sate thereon
Have worn away thine Alfred's hallowing.
Forth with his holy sword unshrinking go,
The sword that gleamëd in his guardian hand;
O tremble not his trumpet-blast to blow,
That pealed the rescue of the Fatherland!
The sword that gleamëd in his guardian hand;
O tremble not his trumpet-blast to blow,
That pealed the rescue of the Fatherland!
Yes, angel-hands that sacred sword might wield
Wherewith the ruthless heathen hordes he smote;
And saintly feet might press each battle-field
Whereon to England peace, glory to God he wrote!
Wherewith the ruthless heathen hordes he smote;
And saintly feet might press each battle-field
Whereon to England peace, glory to God he wrote!
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Sitt'st thou still stately, while around thee gleam
The flowing robes of Liberty and Law?
No late-set spangle makes thy raiment beam;
Those garments bright thine Alfred on did draw.
The flowing robes of Liberty and Law?
No late-set spangle makes thy raiment beam;
Those garments bright thine Alfred on did draw.
O! not without thy king's strong hand was wrought
Each bar that keepeth down a tyrant's will;
O! not without the skill thine Alfred brought
Bloomëd each grace that makes thee glorious still.
Each bar that keepeth down a tyrant's will;
O! not without the skill thine Alfred brought
Bloomëd each grace that makes thee glorious still.
Muse, as thy Souls of Light thou countest o'er,
How his own time's thick gloom thine Alfred rent!
Bless that strange radiance! marvel at that lore
So greatly gathered, so divinely spent!
How his own time's thick gloom thine Alfred rent!
Bless that strange radiance! marvel at that lore
So greatly gathered, so divinely spent!
Sing how thy war-worn guardian sweetly strove
With his soul's sweat thy sluggish soul to wake!
How thy great Lover in his height of love
Lent of his light thee beautiful to make!
With his soul's sweat thy sluggish soul to wake!
How thy great Lover in his height of love
Lent of his light thee beautiful to make!
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Let loose thy heart! thou hast not here to grieve
O'er some grand sinner whom thou canst not hate;
Yes, with the world's and with the Saviour's leave
Doth happy England call her Alfred great.
O'er some grand sinner whom thou canst not hate;
Yes, with the world's and with the Saviour's leave
Doth happy England call her Alfred great.
O more than conqueror who himself o'ercame!
O man of might by whom the Lord was sought!
O Light-Bringer, whose light was Heaven's own flame,
And gladdeneth angels now, back to its birthplace brought!
O man of might by whom the Lord was sought!
O Light-Bringer, whose light was Heaven's own flame,
And gladdeneth angels now, back to its birthplace brought!
O royal Saint! no Pontiff leave hath given
Thine England to account her king divine;
Thy glorious name hath stolen no prayer from Heaven,
Nor thy dear dust been wronged by idol-shrine.
Thine England to account her king divine;
Thy glorious name hath stolen no prayer from Heaven,
Nor thy dear dust been wronged by idol-shrine.
Still, England, in thy heart let Alfred lie,
Where he a thousand years hath glorious lain;
And in thy treasured law and liberty
His blessed relies sweetly entertain.
Where he a thousand years hath glorious lain;
And in thy treasured law and liberty
His blessed relies sweetly entertain.
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