Sonett-Forum

Normale Version: Chatham
Du siehst gerade eine vereinfachte Darstellung unserer Inhalte. Normale Ansicht mit richtiger Formatierung.
Chatham


Death held thee, yet before thy swooning eyes
The past grew all one glory, and the day
Was large again, and 'neath thy sovereign sway
The quailing earth saw England's star arise:
Yet might not peace be thine in any wise
While any stain on England's honour lay,
Nor death be sweet, while traitors dared betray
Her heart with hate, and fill her house with lies.

Ah! wert thou with us for one bright great hour
To lift our lives above the lust of gold,
And purge our being with thy words of flame,
Still might our days be splendid as of old,
When England gave the peace that blooms from power,
And knew no fear of aught on earth but shame.