 | Songs of Consolation |  |
20
AFTER MAJUBA.
1
SINCE thou art fallen, England, on these daysWhen the vast shadow of thy mighty name,
Being cast no longer from the effulgent flame
Of that high faith, which, for the folk's amaze,
Once from thy soul filled all the worldly ways,
Is dwindled out before the shock of shame
And thy high heritage become a blame
To us, who reckon more the intriguer's praise,
The churl's reproach, than the white memory
Of all thy sons of old who died for thee;—
Since we, dull heirs unto a deathless fame,
Base love of ease, born of the trader-game
O'erpractised, suffer from our purblind gaze,
Feared of the light, blot out thy glory's noontide-blaze;—
2
If the old England thou no longer art,That, in the days bygone, by land and flood,
Waded for honour's sake through fire and blood,
That, by her heroes' hands, to India's heart
Her standards bore, that rent the bonds apart
Which bound the world; if in thy veins but mud
For ichor curdle, if content trade's cud
Thou be to chew and rest a mere world's mart;
If with thy dead upon Majuba-steep
Thine ancient soul lie buried, if in them
21
Loose from thy brows the lying diadem;
Cower on the earth; cast dust upon thy head;
Muffle thy griefful face and mourn thy glories dead.
3
But if a spark there smoulder yet in theeOf that high mettle, by the Picard fords
Or on Najara's slope the Gallic hordes
That smote, that forced Napoleon turn and flee,
That chased the haughty Spaniard from the sea,
That from the harp of danger's clangorous chords,
Midmost the dissonant battle-clash of swords,
Harmonious, drew the hymn of victory,
Awake, arise! Be mindful of thy troth!
Shake off the shame that these on thee have laid,
Mother of nations, who have caused thee cower
Beneath defeat, and show the world dismayed
That England liveth yet! Lay by thy sloth
And cast these faint-heart churls forth of thy place of power!
1881.
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