04.06.2007, 09:19
1900 – 1902
Not for te greed of gold or lust of land
Didst thou, my England, flesh thy dardy knife,
Nor rive the strong man from the weeping wife
To glut a blaze that envy’s breath had fanned:
Ne’er had Gain’s whispered counsel nerved thy hand
To dsperate largesse of thy fairest life, -
Ne’er hadst thou doomed thy dearest to the strife
For all Pactolus’ wealth of golden sand.
Nay, not the frenzied flame of blinding hate
Nor the slow smouldering of a stiftled pride
Could fire the train that waked thy blasting might. –
‘T was Pity for thy martyred nursling’s fate,
‘T was Love, that blinded thee to all beside
Thy younger sons’ inalienable right!
Not for te greed of gold or lust of land
Didst thou, my England, flesh thy dardy knife,
Nor rive the strong man from the weeping wife
To glut a blaze that envy’s breath had fanned:
Ne’er had Gain’s whispered counsel nerved thy hand
To dsperate largesse of thy fairest life, -
Ne’er hadst thou doomed thy dearest to the strife
For all Pactolus’ wealth of golden sand.
Nay, not the frenzied flame of blinding hate
Nor the slow smouldering of a stiftled pride
Could fire the train that waked thy blasting might. –
‘T was Pity for thy martyred nursling’s fate,
‘T was Love, that blinded thee to all beside
Thy younger sons’ inalienable right!