Noel, The Hon. Roden: Written at the time of the Bulgarian massacre...(2) - Druckversion +- Sonett-Forum (https://sonett-archiv.com/forum) +-- Forum: Sonett-Archiv (https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=126) +--- Forum: Sonette aus germanischen Sprachen (https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=394) +---- Forum: Englische Sonette (https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=818) +----- Forum: Autoren N (https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=841) +------ Forum: Andere Autoren N (https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=974) +------ Thema: Noel, The Hon. Roden: Written at the time of the Bulgarian massacre...(2) (/showthread.php?tid=17434) |
Noel, The Hon. Roden: Written at the time of the Bulgarian massacre...(2) - ZaunköniG - 28.10.2007 Written at the time of the Bulgarian massacre, when England was on the point of lending armed support to the Turk against Russia. 1. STAIN not thy soul with the unholy strife, England, my country ! hear the mothers wail At loathsome knees of murderers, whose knife Will be less cruel to their children pale Than those embraces with pollution rife ! Their innocents for whom they long to trail Themselves through hells of horrible infamy ! In calm sweet homes men madden ; their wild eye Scowls on the bloody shroud that veils their life ! They curse the Tyrant, who misrules the world, Sobbing above their darlings turned to stone ; c O strong Deliverer, who of old hast hurled The oppressor low, arise Thou, powerful one ! She thrusts them back : her music is their moan ! 2. WILT thou arouse thee from low lethargy, Only to hurl these helpless lambs to slaughter, And fouler outrage ? Souls who appeal to thee ! Therefore the Lord to blood shall change thy water, Sea queen ! for scorn named mother of the free ! Therefore innumerable ghostly laughter Shall peal above thy vaunted empire's tomb, What time thy pride is gathered to the gloom Of dissolution ! all shall point with glee To the dead corse of thy colossal strength, 'There lies she who, for power and for gold, Betrayed the innocent ! laid low at length, Who once to right the wrong towered grandly bold, Liberty's own impregnable stronghold ! |