The ballad of Babe Christabel with other Lyrical Poems By Gerald Massey. Fifth Edition, Revised and Enlarged |
 |
|
|
|
OUR LAND. |
|
 | The ballad of Babe Christabel with other Lyrical Poems |  |
OUR LAND.
'Tis the Land that our stalwart fore-sires trode,
Where the brave and heroic-soul'd
Implanted our freedom with their best blood,
In the martyr-days of old.
The huts of the lowly gave Liberty birth,
Their hearts were her cradle glorious,
And wherever her foot-prints letter'd the earth,
Great spirits up-sprang victorious,
In our rare old Land, our dear old Land,
With its memories bright and brave,
And sing hey for the hour its sons shall band
To free it of Tyrant and Slave.
Where the brave and heroic-soul'd
Implanted our freedom with their best blood,
In the martyr-days of old.
The huts of the lowly gave Liberty birth,
Their hearts were her cradle glorious,
186
Great spirits up-sprang victorious,
In our rare old Land, our dear old Land,
With its memories bright and brave,
And sing hey for the hour its sons shall band
To free it of Tyrant and Slave.
Alfred was of us, and Shakespeare's thought
Bekings us, all crowns above!
And Freedom's dear faith a fresh splendour caught
From our grand old Milton's love!
And we should be marching on gallantly,
And striding from glory to glory,
For the Right with our Might striking valiantly,
On the track of the famous in story—
For our rare old Land, our dear old Land,
With its memories bright and brave,
And sing hey for the hour its sons shall band
To free it of Tyrant and Slave.
Bekings us, all crowns above!
And Freedom's dear faith a fresh splendour caught
From our grand old Milton's love!
And we should be marching on gallantly,
And striding from glory to glory,
For the Right with our Might striking valiantly,
On the track of the famous in story—
For our rare old Land, our dear old Land,
With its memories bright and brave,
And sing hey for the hour its sons shall band
To free it of Tyrant and Slave.
On Naseby-field of the fight sublime,
Our old red Rose doth blow!
Would to God that the soul of that earlier time
Might marshal us conquering now!
On into the Future's fair clime the world sweeps,
And the time trumpets true men to freedom:
At the heart of our helots the mounting God leaps,
But O for the Moses to lead 'em!
For our rare old Land, our dear old Land,
With its memories bright and brave!
And sing hey for the hour its sons shall band
To free it of Tyrant and Slave.
Our old red Rose doth blow!
Would to God that the soul of that earlier time
Might marshal us conquering now!
On into the Future's fair clime the world sweeps,
And the time trumpets true men to freedom:
At the heart of our helots the mounting God leaps,
But O for the Moses to lead 'em!
187
With its memories bright and brave!
And sing hey for the hour its sons shall band
To free it of Tyrant and Slave.
What do we lack, that the ruffian Wrong
Should starve us 'mid heaps of gold?
We have brains as broad, we have arms as strong,
We have hearts as big and as bold!
Will a thousand years more of meek suffering school
Our lives to a sterner bravery?
No! down and down with their robber rule,
And up from the land of slavery!
For our rare old Land, our dear old Land,
With its memories bright and brave!
And sing hey for the hour its sons shall band
To free it of Tyrant and Slave.
Should starve us 'mid heaps of gold?
We have brains as broad, we have arms as strong,
We have hearts as big and as bold!
Will a thousand years more of meek suffering school
Our lives to a sterner bravery?
No! down and down with their robber rule,
And up from the land of slavery!
For our rare old Land, our dear old Land,
With its memories bright and brave!
And sing hey for the hour its sons shall band
To free it of Tyrant and Slave.
| The ballad of Babe Christabel with other Lyrical Poems | |