The Poetical Works of Ebenezer Elliott Edited by his Son Edwin Elliott ... A New and Revised Edition: Two Volumes |
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CORONATION ODE.
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 | The Poetical Works of Ebenezer Elliott |  |
144
CORONATION ODE.
WRITTEN FOR THE SHEFFIELD WORKING MEN'S ASSOCIATION.
Victoria, cypress-crown'd! thou good in vain!
How the red wreath, with which thy name is bound—
The page which tells the first deeds of thy reign,
Black and blood-bloated—cheer the Calmuck hound,
Whose growl o'er Brunswick hails thee, cypress-crown'd!
How the red wreath, with which thy name is bound—
The page which tells the first deeds of thy reign,
Black and blood-bloated—cheer the Calmuck hound,
Whose growl o'er Brunswick hails thee, cypress-crown'd!
Canada weeps—and yet her dead are free!
Throned o'er their blood! who would not be a Queen?
The Queen of new-made graves, who would not be?
Of glory's royal flowers the loveliest seen!
So young! yet all that the deplored have been!
Throned o'er their blood! who would not be a Queen?
The Queen of new-made graves, who would not be?
Of glory's royal flowers the loveliest seen!
So young! yet all that the deplored have been!
Here too, O Queen, thy woe-worn people feel
The load they bear is more than they can bear!
Beneath it twenty million workers reel!
While fifty thousand idlers rob and glare,
And mock the sufferings which they yet may share!
The load they bear is more than they can bear!
Beneath it twenty million workers reel!
While fifty thousand idlers rob and glare,
And mock the sufferings which they yet may share!
145
The drama soon will end. Four acts are past:
The curtain rises o'er embracing foes!
But each dark smiler hugs his dagger fast!
While Doom prepares his match, and waits the close!
Queen of the Earthquake! would'st thou win or lose?
The curtain rises o'er embracing foes!
But each dark smiler hugs his dagger fast!
While Doom prepares his match, and waits the close!
Queen of the Earthquake! would'st thou win or lose?
Still shall the Car of Juggernaut roll on,
O'er broken hearts and children born in vain,
Banner'd with fire! while “thousand men as one”
Sink down beneath its coward wheels of pain,
That crush our souls, through crunching blood and brain!
O'er broken hearts and children born in vain,
Banner'd with fire! while “thousand men as one”
Sink down beneath its coward wheels of pain,
That crush our souls, through crunching blood and brain!
Stop!—for to ruin Antoinette was led,
By men, who only when they died awoke!
Base nobles who, o'er France vain darkness spread,
And, goading her faint steeds with stroke on stroke,
Loaded the wain—until the axles broke!
By men, who only when they died awoke!
Base nobles who, o'er France vain darkness spread,
And, goading her faint steeds with stroke on stroke,
Loaded the wain—until the axles broke!
Stop!—“for the blasting engine's iron Laws,”
Then saved not thrones from outraged Heav'n's control,
When hunger urged up to the cannon's jaws
A sea of men, with only one wild soul!
Hark! still I hear the echo of its roll!
Then saved not thrones from outraged Heav'n's control,
When hunger urged up to the cannon's jaws
A sea of men, with only one wild soul!
Hark! still I hear the echo of its roll!
| The Poetical Works of Ebenezer Elliott | |