II
South and North and West and East Watch the ravens flock to feast, Dense as round some death-struck beast, Black as night is black.
Stand fast as faith together In stress of treacherous weather When hounds and wolves break tether And Treason guides the pack.
III
Lovelier than thy seas are strong, Glorious Ireland, sword and song Gird and crown thee: none may wrong, Save thy sons alone.
The sea that laughs around us Hath sundered not but bound us: The sun"s first rising found us Throned on its equal throne.
IV
North and South and East and West, All true hearts that wish thee best Beat one tune and own one quest, Staunch and sure as steel.
G.o.d guard from dark disunion Our threefold State"s communion, G.o.d save the loyal Union, The royal Commonweal!
EAST TO WEST
Sunset smiles on sunrise: east and west are one, Face to face in heaven before the sovereign sun.
From the springs of the dawn everlasting a glory renews and transfigures the west, From the depths of the sunset a light as of morning enkindles the broad sea"s breast, And the lands and the skies and the waters are glad of the day"s and the night"s work done.
Child of dawn, and regent on the world-wide sea, England smiles on Europe, fair as dawn and free.
Not the waters that gird her are purer, nor mightier the winds that her waters know.
But America, daughter and sister of England, is praised of them, far as they flow: Atlantic responds to Pacific the praise of her days that have been and shall be.
So from England westward let the watchword fly, So for England eastward let the seas reply; Praise, honour, and love everlasting be sent on the wind"s wings, westward and east, That the pride of the past and the pride of the future may mingle as friends at feast, And the sons of the lords of the world-wide seas be one till the world"s life die.
INSCRIPTIONS
FOR THE FOUR SIDES OF A PEDESTAL
I
Marlowe, the father of the sons of song Whose praise is England"s crowning praise, above All glories else that crown her, sweet and strong As England, clothed with light and fire of love, And girt with might of pa.s.sion, thought, and trust, Stands here in spirit, sleeps not here in dust.
II
Marlowe, a star too sovereign, too superb, To fade when heaven took fire from Shakespeare"s light, A soul that knew but song"s triumphal curb And love"s triumphant bondage, holds of right His pride of place, who first in place and time Made England"s voice as England"s heart sublime.
III
Marlowe bade England live in living song: The light he lifted up lit Shakespeare"s way: He spake, and life sprang forth in music, strong As fire or lightning, sweet as dawn of day.
Song was a dream where day took night to wife: "Let there be life," he said: and there was life.
IV
Marlowe of all our fathers first beheld Beyond the tidal ebb and flow of things The tideless depth and height of souls, impelled By thought or pa.s.sion, borne on waves or wings, Beyond all flight or sight but song"s: and he First gave our song a sound that matched our sea.
ON THE DEATH OF RICHARD BURTON
Night or light is it now, wherein Sleeps, shut out from the wild world"s din, Wakes, alive with a life more clear, One who found not on earth his kin?
Sleep were sweet for awhile, were dear Surely to souls that were heartless here, Souls that faltered and flagged and fell, Soft of spirit and faint of cheer.
A living soul that had strength to quell Hope the spectre and fear the spell, Clear-eyed, content with a scorn sublime And a faith superb, can it fare not well?
Life, the shadow of wide-winged time, Cast from the wings that change as they climb, Life may vanish in death, and seem Less than the promise of last year"s prime.
But not for us is the past a dream Wherefrom, as light from a clouded stream, Faith fades and shivers and ebbs away, Faint as the moon if the sundawn gleam.
Faith, whose eyes in the low last ray Watch the fire that renews the day, Faith which lives in the living past, Rock-rooted, swerves not as weeds that sway.
As trees that stand in the storm-wind fast She stands, unsmitten of death"s keen blast, With strong remembrance of sunbright spring Alive at heart to the lifeless last.
Night, she knows, may in no wise cling To a soul that sinks not and droops not wing, A sun that sets not in death"s false night Whose kingdom finds him not thrall but king.
Souls there are that for soul"s affright Bow down and cower in the sun"s glad sight, Clothed round with faith that is one with fear, And dark with doubt of the live world"s light.
But him we hailed from afar or near As boldest born of the bravest here And loved as brightest of souls that eyed Life, time, and death with unchangeful cheer,
A wider soul than the world was wide, Whose praise made love of him one with pride, What part has death or has time in him, Who rode life"s lists as a G.o.d might ride?
While England sees not her old praise dim, While still her stars through the world"s night swim, A fame outshining her Raleigh"s fame, A light that lightens her loud sea"s rim,
Shall shine and sound as her sons proclaim The pride that kindles at Burton"s name.
And joy shall exalt their pride to be The same in birth if in soul the same.
But we that yearn for a friend"s face--we Who lack the light that on earth was he-- Mourn, though the light be a quenchless flame That shines as dawn on a tideless sea.