Part 35 (1/2)

Ah, fair Lord G.o.d of Heaven, to whom we call,-- By whom we live,--on whom our hopes are built,-- Do Thou, from year to year, e'en as Thou wilt, Control the Realm, but suffer not to fall Its ancient faith, its grandeur, and its thrall!

Do Thou preserve it, in the hours of guilt, When foemen thirst for blood that should be spilt, And keep it strong when traitors would appal.

Uphold us still, O G.o.d! and be the screen And sword and buckler of our England's might, That foemen's wiles, and woes which intervene, May fade away, as fades a winter's night.

Thine ears have heard us, and Thine eyes have seen.

Wilt Thou not help us, Lord! to find the Light?

XXVII.

A VETERAN POET.

I knew thee first as one may know the fame Of some apostle, as a man may know The mid-day sun far-s.h.i.+ning o'er the snow.

I hail'd thee prince of poets! I became Va.s.sal of thine, and warm'd me at the flame Of thy pure thought, my spirit all aglow With dreams of peace, and pomp, and lyric show, And all the splendours, Master! of thy name.

But now, a man reveal'd, a guide for men, I see thy face, I clasp thee by the hand; And though the Muses in thy presence stand, There's room for me to loiter in thy ken.

O lordly soul! O wizard of the pen!

What news from G.o.d? What word from Fairyland?

A CHORAL ODE TO LIBERTY.

A CHORAL ODE TO LIBERTY.

I.

O sunlike Liberty, with eyes of flame, Mother and maid, immortal, man's delight!

Fairest and first art thou in name and fame And none shall rob thee of thy vested right.

Where is the man, though fifty times a king, Shall stay the tide, or countermand the spring?

And where is he, though fifty times a knave, Shall track thy steps to cast thee in a grave?

II.

Old as the sun art thou, and young as morn, And fresh as April when the breezes blow, And girt with glory like the growing corn, And undefiled like mountains made of snow.

Oh, thou'rt the summer of the souls of men, And poor men's rights, approved by sword and pen, Are made self-certain as the day at noon, And fair to view as flowers that grow in June.

III.

Look, where erect and tall thy Symbol waits,[B]

The gift of France to friends beyond the deep, A lofty presence at the ocean-gates With lips of peace and eyes that cannot weep; A new-born Tellus with uplifted arm To light the seas, and keep the land from harm-- To light the coast at downfall of the day, And dower with dawn the darkening water-way.