14.
Shall I then imprecate
A curse on them that would divide
Our union?.. Far be this from me, O Lord Î
Far be it! What is man,
That he should scatter curses?.. King of Kings,
Father of all, Almighty, Governor
Of all things! unto Thee
Humbly I offer up our holier prayer!
I pray Thee, not in wrath
But in thy mercy, to confound
These men’s devices. Lord!
Lighten their darkness with thy Gospel light,
And thus abate their pride,
Assuage their malice thus!
Keswick, 1821.
ODE WRITTEN AFTER THE KING’S VISIT TO SCOTLAND.
1.
AT length hath Scotland seen
The presence long desired;
The pomp of royalty
Hath gladden’d once again
Her ancient palace, desolate how long!
From all parts far and near,
Highland and lowland, glen and fertile carse,
The silent mountain lake, the busy port,
Her populous cities, and her pastoral hills,
In generous joy convened
By the free impulse of the loyal heart
Her sons have gather’d, and beheld their King.
2.
Land of the loyal, as in happy hour
Revisited, so was thy regal seat
In happy hour for thee
Forsaken, under favouring stars, when James.
His valediction gave,
And great Eliza’s throne
Received its rightful heir.
The Peaceful and the Just.
3.
A more auspicious union never Earth
From eldest days had seen.
Than when, their mutual wrongs forgiven.
And gallant enmity renounced
With honour, as in honour foster’d long,
The ancient Kingdoms formed
Their everlasting league.
4.
Slowly by time matured
A happier order then for Scotland rose;
And where inhuman force,
And rapine unrestrain’d
Had lorded o’er the land,
Peace came, and polity,
And quiet industry, and frugal wealth;
And there the household virtues fix’d
Their sojourn undisturb’d.
5.
Such blessings for her dowry Scotland drew
From that benignant union; nor less large
The portion that she brought.
She brought security and strength,
True hearts, and strenuous hands, and noble mind
Say, Ocean, from the shores of Camperdown,
What Caledonia brought! Say thou,
Egypt! Let India tell!
And let tell Victory
From that Brabantine field,
The proudest field of fame!
Speak ye, too, Works of peace;
For ye too have a voice
Which shall be heard by ages! The proud Bridge,
Through whose broad arches, worthy of their name
And place, his vising and his refluent tide
Majestic Thames, the royal river rolls;
And that which high in air
A bending line suspended, shall o’erhang
Menai’s straits, as if
By Merlin’s mighty magic there sustain’d;
And Pont-Cyssylté, not less wondrous work;
Where on gigantic columns raised
Aloft, a dizzying height,
The laden barge pursues its even way,
While o’er his rocky channel the dark Dee
Hurries below, a raging stream, scarce heard.
And that huge mole, whose deep foundations, firm
As if by Nature laid,
Repel the assailing billows, and protect
The British fleet, securely riding there,
Though southern storms possess the sea and sky,
And from its depths commoved,
Infuriate ocean raves.
Ye stately monuments of Britain’s power,
Bear record ye what Scottish minds
Have plann’d and perfected!
With grateful wonder shall posterity
See the stupendous works, and Rennie’s name,
And Telford’s shall survive, till time
Leave not a wrcck of sublunary things.
7.
Him too may I attest for Scotland’s praise,
Who seized and wielded first
The mightiest element
That lies within the scope of man’s controul;
Of evil and of good,
Prolific spring, and dimly yet discern’d
The immeasurable results.
The mariner no longer seeks
Wings from the wind; creating now the power
Wherewith he wins his way,
Bight on across the ocean-flood he steers
Against opposing skies;
And reaching now the inmost continent,
Up rapid streams, innavigable else,
Ascends with steady progress, self-propell’d.
8.
Nor hath the Sister kingdom borne
In science and in arms
Alone, her noble part;
There is an empire which survives
The wreck of thrones, the overthrow of realms,
The downfall, and decay, and death
Of Nations. Such an empire in the mind
Of intellectual man
Home yet maintains, and elder Greece, and such
By indefeasible right
Hath Britain made her own.
How fair a part doth Caledonia claim
In that fair conquest! Whereso’er
The British tongue may spread,
(A goodly tree, whose leaf
No winter e’er shall nip;)
Earthly immortals, there, her sons of fame,
Will have their heritage.
In eastern and in occidental Ind;
The new antarctic world, where sable swans
Glide upon waters, call’d by British names,
And plough’d by British keels;
In vast America through all its length
And breadth, from Massachusetts populous eoast
To western Oregan;
And from the southern gulph,
Where the great river with his turbid flood
Stains the green Ocean, to the polar sea.
9.
There nations yet unborn shall trace
In Hume’s perspieuous page,
How Britain rose, and through what storms attain’d
Her eminence of power.
In other climates, youths and maidens there
Shall learn from Thomson’s verse in what attire
The various seasons, bringing in their change
Variety of good,
Revisit their beloved English ground.
There Beattie! in thy sweet and soothing strain
Shall youthful poets read
Their own emotions. There too, old and young,
Gentle and simple, by Sir Walter’s tales
Spell-bound shall feel
Imaginary hopes and fears
Strong as realities,
And waking from the dream, regret its close.
10.
These Scotland are thy glories; and thy praise
Is England’s, even as her power
And opulence of fame are thine.
So hath our happy union made
Each in the other’s weal participant,
Enriching, strengthening, glorifying both.
11.
O House of Stuart, to thy memory still
For this best benefit
Should British hearts in gratitude be bound!
A deeper tragedy
T
han thine unhappy tale hath never fill’d
The historic page, nor given
Poet or moralist his mournful theme.
O House severely tried,
And in prosperity alone
Found wanting, Time hath closed
Thy tragic story now I
Errors, and virtues fatally betrayed,
Magnanimous suffering, vice,
Weakness, and head-strong zeal, sincere, tho’ blind,
Wrongs, calumnies, heart-wounds,
Religious resignation, earthly hopes,
Fears and affections, these have had their course,
And over them in peace
The all-ingulphing stream of years hath closed.
But this good work endures,
‘Stablish’d and perfected by length of days,
The indissoluble union stands.
12.
Nor hath the sceptre from that line
Departed, though the name hath lost
Its regal honours. Trunk and root have fail’d:
A scion from the stock
Liveth and flourisheth. It is the Tree
Beneath whose sacred shade,
In majesty and peaceful power serene,
The Island Queen of Ocean hath her seat;
Whose branches far and near
Extend their sure protection; whose strong roots
Are with the Isle’s foundations inter-knit;
Whose stately summit when the storm careers
Below, abides unmoved,
Safe in the sunshine and the peace of Heaven.
Keswick, 1822.
THE WARNING VOICE. ODE I.
1.
TAKE up thy prophecy,
Thou dweller in the mountains, who hast nursed
Thy soul in solitude,
Holding communion with immortal minds,
Poets and Sages of the days of old;
And with the sacred food
Of meditation and of lore divine
Hast fed thy heavenly part;
Take up thy monitory strain,
O son of song, a strain severe
Of warning and of woe!
2.
O Britain, O my Mother Isle,
Ocean’s imperial Queen,
Thou glory of all lands!
Is there a curse upon thee, that thy sons
Would rush to ruin, drunk
With sin, and in infuriate folly blind?
Hath Hell enlarged itself,
And are the Fiends let loose
To work thine overthrow?
3.
For who is she
That on the many-headed Beast
Triumphantly enthroned,
Doth ride abroad in state.
The Book of her Enchantments in her hand?
Her robes are stain’d with blood,
And on her brazen front
Is written BLASPHEMY.
4.
Know ye not then the Harlot? know ye not
Her shameless forehead, her obdurate eye.
Her meretricious mien,
Her loose immodest garb with slaughter foul?
Your Fathers knew her; when delirious France,
Drunk with her witcheries,
Upon the desecrated altar set
The Sorceress, and with rites
Inhuman and accurst,
O’er all the groaning land
Perform’d her sacrifice.
5.
Your Fathers knew her! when the nations round
Received her maddening spell,
And call’d her Liberty,
And in that name proclaim’d
A jubilee for guilt;
When their blaspheming hosts defied high Heaven,
And wheresoe’er they went let havoc loose;
Your Fathers knew the Sorceress! They stood firm
And in that hour of trial faithful found,
They raised the Red Cross Hag.
6.
They knew her; and they knew
That not in scenes of rapine and of blood,
In lawless riotry,
And wallowing with the multitude obscene,
Would Liberty be found!
Her in her form divine,
Her genuine form they knew;
For Britain was her home,
With Order and Religion there she dwelt;
It was her chosen seat,
Her own beloved Isle.
Think not that Liberty
From Order and Religion e’er will dwell
Apart; companions they
Of heavenly seed connate.
7.
Woe, woe for Britain, woe!
If that society divine,
By lewd and impious uproar driven,
Indignantly should leave
The land that in their presence hath been blest!
Woe, woe! for in her streets
Should grey-hair’d Polity
Be trampled under foot by ruffian force;
And Murder to the noon-day sky
Lift his red hands, as if no God were there
War would lay waste the realm;
Devouring fire consume
Temples and Palaces;
Nor would the lowliest cot
Escape that indiscriminating storm,
When Heaven upon the guilty nation pour’d
The vials of its wrath.
8.
These are no doubtful ills!
The unerring voice of Time
Warns us that what hath been again shall be;
And the broad beacon-flame
Of History, casts its light
Upon Futurity.
9.
Turn not thy face away,
Almighty! from the realm
By thee so highly favoured, and so long.
Thou who in war hast been our shield and strength,
From famine who hast saved us, and hast bade
The Earthquake and the Pestilence go by,
Spare us, O Father! save us from ourselves!
From insane Faction, who prepares the pit
In which itself would fall;
From rabid Treason’s rage,..
The poor priest-ridden Papist’s erring zeal,..
The lurking Atheist’s wiles,..
The mad Blasphemer’s venom,.. from our foes,
Our follies and our errors, and our sins,
Save us, O Father! for thy mercy’s sake.
Thou who ALONE canst save!
Keswick, 1819.
THE WARNING VOICE. ODE II.
1.
IN a vision I was seized,
When the elements were hush’d
In the stillness that is felt
Ere the Storm goes abroad;
Thro’ the air I was borne away:
And in spirit I beheld
Where a City lay beneath,
Like a valley mapp’d below,
When seen from a mountain top.
2.
The night had closed around,
And o’er the sullen sky
Were the wide wings of darkness spread,
The City’s myriad lamps
Shone mistily below,
Like stars in the bosom of a lake;
And its murmurs arose
Incessant and deep,
Like the sound of the sea
Where it rakes on a stoney shore.
3.
A voice from the darkness went forth,
“Son of Man, look below!
This is the City to be visited;
For as a fountain
Casteth its waters,
So casteth she her wickedness abroad!”
Mine eyes were opened then.
And the veil which conceals
The Invisible World was withdrawn.
4.
I look’d, and behold!
As the Patriarch, in his dream,
Saw the Angels to and fro
Pass from Heaven t
o Earth,
On their ministry of love;
So saw I where a way
From that great City, led
To the black abyss of bale,
To the dolorous region of Death.
5.
Wide and beaten was the way,
And deep the descent
To the Adamantine Gates,
Which were thrown on their hinges back.
Wailing and Woe were within,
And the gleam of sulphurous fires,
In darkness and smoke involved.
6.
And through those open gates
The Fiends were swarming forth;
Hastily, joyfully,
As to a jubilee,
The Spirits accurst were trooping up:
They fill’d the streets,
And they bore with them curses and plagues;
And they scatter’d lies abroad,
Horrors, obscenities,
Blasphemies, treasons,
And the seeds of strife and death.
7.
“Son of Man, look up!” said the Voice.
I look’d and beheld
The way which Angels tread,
Seen like a pillar of light
That slants from a broken sky.
That heavenly way by clouds was closed,
Heavy, and thick, and dark, with thunder charged
And there a Spirit stood,
Who raised in menacing act his aweful arm;
He spake aloud, and thrill’d
My inmost soul with fear.
8.
“Woe! Woe!
Woe to the City where Faction reigns!
Woe to the Land where Sedition prevails!
Woe to the Nation whom Hell deceives!
Woe! Woe!
They have Eyes, and they will not see!
They have Ears, and they will not hear!
They have Hearts, and they will not feel!
Woe to the People who fasten their eyes!
Woe to the People who deafen their ears!
Woe to the People who harden their hearts!
Woe! Woe!
The Vials are charged;
The measure is full;
The wrath is ripe;..
Woe! Woe!”
Complete Poetical Works of Robert Southey Page 54