31.12.2010, 18:47
ENGLAND'S HONOUR.
How easily the breath of God o'erwhelms
The nations that presume to live for gain !
And clogs the motion of imperial realms,
As our poor breath the fly upon the pane :
Though our deep-laden argosies rejoice
From port to port to drag the seething sea
Across the world, how helpless we may be
In one brief year, despite our trade and noise !
Too oft, when,-burthen'd with our chests and bales,
From the four winds we bring our freightage home,
We help to strike our country's honour dumb ;
Her noble voice, once heard above the gales,
Is lost among the stowage, while the prayer
Of our weak neighbours finds us slow to dare
ENFORCED WAR.
What ! shall the wharf and warehouse block our view
Of truth and right ? Shall we no help afford,
When petty states in their affliction sue,
Because our busy merchants flinch the sword?
What ! when redemption of our word is due.
Shall we make pretexts ?—shall no war be waged ?
The meekest saint would hold us disengaged
From thoughts of peace, to serve a cause so true :
When Nelson scour'd the ocean's vast expanse
In passionate haste, and, hugging every wind,
Rush'd to the East, his dodging foe to find.
And drove among the anchor'd ships of France
The yeast of his fierce voyage, the great strife
Was forced ui)on us,—yea, we fought for life !
DISHONOURABLE PEACE.
Our own and Europe's safety met in one ;
And so we sent our warriors to the field,
Or launch'd them on the deep, our arms to wield :
But ah ! when Christian honour pleads alone,
When nought is lost by abstinence from war.
And nought is urgent save a sister's prayer,
We shirk the purer mission, and prepare
To close our armouries with bolt and bar ;
We give into the callous hands of trade
Our living hearts—all martial help forbear —
For fear the stirring gun-smoke should invade
Our marts, or smutch our commerce here and there ;
We furl our flag, as shopmen in a trice
Roll up the web, that will not fetch a price.
How easily the breath of God o'erwhelms
The nations that presume to live for gain !
And clogs the motion of imperial realms,
As our poor breath the fly upon the pane :
Though our deep-laden argosies rejoice
From port to port to drag the seething sea
Across the world, how helpless we may be
In one brief year, despite our trade and noise !
Too oft, when,-burthen'd with our chests and bales,
From the four winds we bring our freightage home,
We help to strike our country's honour dumb ;
Her noble voice, once heard above the gales,
Is lost among the stowage, while the prayer
Of our weak neighbours finds us slow to dare
ENFORCED WAR.
What ! shall the wharf and warehouse block our view
Of truth and right ? Shall we no help afford,
When petty states in their affliction sue,
Because our busy merchants flinch the sword?
What ! when redemption of our word is due.
Shall we make pretexts ?—shall no war be waged ?
The meekest saint would hold us disengaged
From thoughts of peace, to serve a cause so true :
When Nelson scour'd the ocean's vast expanse
In passionate haste, and, hugging every wind,
Rush'd to the East, his dodging foe to find.
And drove among the anchor'd ships of France
The yeast of his fierce voyage, the great strife
Was forced ui)on us,—yea, we fought for life !
DISHONOURABLE PEACE.
Our own and Europe's safety met in one ;
And so we sent our warriors to the field,
Or launch'd them on the deep, our arms to wield :
But ah ! when Christian honour pleads alone,
When nought is lost by abstinence from war.
And nought is urgent save a sister's prayer,
We shirk the purer mission, and prepare
To close our armouries with bolt and bar ;
We give into the callous hands of trade
Our living hearts—all martial help forbear —
For fear the stirring gun-smoke should invade
Our marts, or smutch our commerce here and there ;
We furl our flag, as shopmen in a trice
Roll up the web, that will not fetch a price.