 | Runnamede |  |
99
Archbishop, Barons, Knights.
Archbishop, with MAGNA CHARTA in his hand, To Elvine.
By thee, great chief, the victory is won.
And lo! the Charter of our freedom sealed!
To Heaven, to heaven ascend eternal praise!
Barons, the tears which trickle from those eyes,
Are patriot drops; for Britain now is free!
Albemarle.
And lo! the Charter of our freedom sealed!
To Heaven, to heaven ascend eternal praise!
Barons, the tears which trickle from those eyes,
Are patriot drops; for Britain now is free!
Let unborn ages echo to the sound!
Now England, rising from the dust, resumes
Her name among the nations, and unfolds
The page of glory to remotest time.
The memory of this day will raise a race
Of daring spirits in the dregs of time.
A nation of the brave, a kingly people,
Bold in the cause of freedom and their fathers,
And for their country prodigal of blood.
Archbishop
, in emotion.
From future time the veil is drawn aside.
The hidden volume opens to mine eye,
And lo! they rise!
100
He trembles, and he glows
Like ancient prophets when they felt the God.
Archbishop.
Barons, this glorious day, this hallowed ground
Shall never be forgot; to Runnamede,
The field of freedom, Britain's sons shall come,
Shall tread where heroes and where patriots trod,
To worship as they walk!
Albemarle.
Rapt into heaven,
High visions pass before the holy man;
His tranced accent is the voice divine.
Archbishop.
The day of Britain now begins to dawn,
Red in its rise. Heaven opens: And behold
The hours of glory and the morn of men
Ascending o'er the globe. An aera new,
The last of ages now begins to roll,
The reign of liberty. The Goddess comes
Down from high heaven; her garment dyed in blood:
The sword refulgent in her lifted hand.
She looks: And fixes, never to remove,
Her throne and sceptre in Britannia's isle.
101
O blest of heaven, who shall behold the day
Of Britain shine!
Archbishop.
The Queen of isles behold,
Sitting sublime upon her rocky throne,
The region of the storms! She stretches forth,
In her right hand, the sceptre of the sea,
And in her left the balance of the earth.
The Guardian of the globe, she gives the law:
She calls the winds, the winds obey her call,
And bear the thunder of her power, to burst
O'er the devoted lands, and carry fate
To Kings, to nations, and the subject world.
Above the Grecian or the Roman name,
Unlike the great destroyers of the globe,
She fights and conquers in fair Freedom's cause.
Her song of victory the nations sing:
Her triumphs are the triumphs of mankind.
| Runnamede | |