The year of shame by William Watson With an introduction by the Bishop of Hereford |
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| XXIV. | XXIV THE AWAKENING |
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 | The year of shame by William Watson |  |
67
XXIV
THE AWAKENING
Behold, she is risen who lay asleep so long,
Our England, our Belovèd! We have seen
The swelling of the waters, we have heard
The thundering cataracts call. Behold, she is risen,
Lovelier in resurrection than the face
Of vale or mountain, when, with storming tears,
At all Earth's portals knocks the importunate Spring.
Our England, our Belovèd! We have seen
The swelling of the waters, we have heard
The thundering cataracts call. Behold, she is risen,
Lovelier in resurrection than the face
Of vale or mountain, when, with storming tears,
At all Earth's portals knocks the importunate Spring.
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We watched her sleeping. Day and night we strove
With the dread spell that drowsed her heart. And thrice
In the unrest of her sick dreams she stirred,
Half raised herself, half oped her lips and lids,
And thrice the evil charm prevailed, and thrice
She fell back forceless. But behold, she is risen,
The Hope of the World is risen, is risen anew.
With the dread spell that drowsed her heart. And thrice
In the unrest of her sick dreams she stirred,
Half raised herself, half oped her lips and lids,
And thrice the evil charm prevailed, and thrice
She fell back forceless. But behold, she is risen,
The Hope of the World is risen, is risen anew.
O England! O Belovèd! O Re-born!
Look that thou fall not upon sleep again!
Thou art a star among the nations yet:
Be thou a light of succour unto them
That else are lost in blind and whelming seas.
Around them is the tempest; over them,
Cold splendours of the inhospitable night,
Augustly unregardful: thou alone
Art still the North Star to the labouring ship,
In friendless ocean the befriending orb,
And if thou shine not, whither is she steered?
Shine in thy glory, shine on her despair,
Shine lest she perish—lest of her no more
Than some lorn flotsam of mortality
Remain to catch the first auroral gleam,
When, in the East, flames the reluctant dawn.
Look that thou fall not upon sleep again!
69
Be thou a light of succour unto them
That else are lost in blind and whelming seas.
Around them is the tempest; over them,
Cold splendours of the inhospitable night,
Augustly unregardful: thou alone
Art still the North Star to the labouring ship,
In friendless ocean the befriending orb,
And if thou shine not, whither is she steered?
Shine in thy glory, shine on her despair,
Shine lest she perish—lest of her no more
Than some lorn flotsam of mortality
Remain to catch the first auroral gleam,
When, in the East, flames the reluctant dawn.
| The year of shame by William Watson | |