https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/ Sat, 09 May 2026 09:28:35 +0000 MyBB https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=20220 Sun, 22 Apr 2012 07:19:53 +0000 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=20220

There was no way but this. no bar they found
To hold the door against the ruffians' hate,
The empty staples mocked the king with fate,
The woman's cry with clashing steel was drowned,
Sudden a maiden sprang from those around
And shot her arm across the iron grate -
She held them, till beneath the shattering weight
The brave bone snapt: she swooned upon the ground.

Thus, Belgium, when hell's traitors rushed the door
Lusting to give the world to spoil and flame
And wreak their hate on all the true and free,
Thy brave arm held them, yet no rescue came.
-'Tis shattered, and thou liest wounded sore
That we may live. What shall we do for thee?]]>

There was no way but this. no bar they found
To hold the door against the ruffians' hate,
The empty staples mocked the king with fate,
The woman's cry with clashing steel was drowned,
Sudden a maiden sprang from those around
And shot her arm across the iron grate -
She held them, till beneath the shattering weight
The brave bone snapt: she swooned upon the ground.

Thus, Belgium, when hell's traitors rushed the door
Lusting to give the world to spoil and flame
And wreak their hate on all the true and free,
Thy brave arm held them, yet no rescue came.
-'Tis shattered, and thou liest wounded sore
That we may live. What shall we do for thee?]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=20219 Sun, 22 Apr 2012 06:17:28 +0000 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=20219

Are they of hell alone, the flames that flare
O'er the dear city? Is there nought but woe
And horror in the scene their breakers show?
Or see we not across the leaping glare
Bright presences of God, and visions fair
Our eyes had known in darkness long ago
But lost in peace's day-light, till the glow
Of Louvain flung them on the mystic air?

Now as of old the might of sovereign wrong
Hath caught the world, and tried her heart with flame,
And purged her eyes of sloth, her will of fear,
Till from the trial she rises bright and strong
To wrest her being from the grip of shame
And walk again with love and mercy dear.]]>

Are they of hell alone, the flames that flare
O'er the dear city? Is there nought but woe
And horror in the scene their breakers show?
Or see we not across the leaping glare
Bright presences of God, and visions fair
Our eyes had known in darkness long ago
But lost in peace's day-light, till the glow
Of Louvain flung them on the mystic air?

Now as of old the might of sovereign wrong
Hath caught the world, and tried her heart with flame,
And purged her eyes of sloth, her will of fear,
Till from the trial she rises bright and strong
To wrest her being from the grip of shame
And walk again with love and mercy dear.]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=20218 Sun, 22 Apr 2012 06:10:25 +0000 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=20218

What have ye given, that men may wish you well?
-The quick blind death that lurks beneath the wave,
Red wrath for her that scorned to be our slave,
Deeds that would shame the foulest fiend of hell!
-And ye, what tale of gifts is yours to tell?
-Our life-blood spilt to serve the true and brave,
The sea swept clear of death our foemen gave,
A will that nought on earth may tame or quell!

They bring ye, now as ers, iron and blood,
A perjured faith, and, in the Lord's high name,
Ruin and rack, scorn of the brave and free;
Of us comes mercy borne on freedom's flood,
Peace and the troth that hath no soil of shame,
-O world, who are thy chosen, they or we?]]>

What have ye given, that men may wish you well?
-The quick blind death that lurks beneath the wave,
Red wrath for her that scorned to be our slave,
Deeds that would shame the foulest fiend of hell!
-And ye, what tale of gifts is yours to tell?
-Our life-blood spilt to serve the true and brave,
The sea swept clear of death our foemen gave,
A will that nought on earth may tame or quell!

They bring ye, now as ers, iron and blood,
A perjured faith, and, in the Lord's high name,
Ruin and rack, scorn of the brave and free;
Of us comes mercy borne on freedom's flood,
Peace and the troth that hath no soil of shame,
-O world, who are thy chosen, they or we?]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=20217 Sun, 22 Apr 2012 06:03:09 +0000 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=20217

By all the deeds to thy dear glory done,
By all the life-blood spilt to serve Thy need,
By all the fettered lives Thy touch hath freed,
By all thy dream in us anew begun;
By all the guerdon English sire to son
Hath given of highest vision, kingliest deed,
By all Thine agony, of God decreed
For trial and strength, our fate with Thine is one.

Still dwells Thy spirit in our hearts and lips,
Honour and life we hold from none but Thee,
And if we live Thy pensioners no more
But seek a nation's might of men and ships,
'This but that when the world is black with war
Thy sons may stand beside Thee strong and free.]]>

By all the deeds to thy dear glory done,
By all the life-blood spilt to serve Thy need,
By all the fettered lives Thy touch hath freed,
By all thy dream in us anew begun;
By all the guerdon English sire to son
Hath given of highest vision, kingliest deed,
By all Thine agony, of God decreed
For trial and strength, our fate with Thine is one.

Still dwells Thy spirit in our hearts and lips,
Honour and life we hold from none but Thee,
And if we live Thy pensioners no more
But seek a nation's might of men and ships,
'This but that when the world is black with war
Thy sons may stand beside Thee strong and free.]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=20216 Sun, 22 Apr 2012 05:53:42 +0000 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=20216

Blessing on him that in his goodly hate
Of England's breed, hath smitten and slain Her foes,
Her lust of pomp, Her sloth that aped repose,
The pride that cankered all Her queenly state,
Her youngling brawls and feuds of olden date,
Envy, the jade that pricked Her boys to blows,
Folly and ease, and all the gleaming shows
That lured Her vision from the eyes of fate.

Never was England great as at this hour
When grief hath lit Her soul, and o'er Her ways
The wings of God's dark angel hover and clang,
When pure by trial, She rises up in power
And on hell's serpent turns Her steadfast gaze
And steels Her arm to crush his loathly fang.]]>

Blessing on him that in his goodly hate
Of England's breed, hath smitten and slain Her foes,
Her lust of pomp, Her sloth that aped repose,
The pride that cankered all Her queenly state,
Her youngling brawls and feuds of olden date,
Envy, the jade that pricked Her boys to blows,
Folly and ease, and all the gleaming shows
That lured Her vision from the eyes of fate.

Never was England great as at this hour
When grief hath lit Her soul, and o'er Her ways
The wings of God's dark angel hover and clang,
When pure by trial, She rises up in power
And on hell's serpent turns Her steadfast gaze
And steels Her arm to crush his loathly fang.]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=20215 Sun, 22 Apr 2012 05:39:38 +0000 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=20215

Because Her sons waxed loud in wantonness
And cursed their mates in mood of angry will,
Nor hearkened when She bade the brawl be still,
Did ye then deem that in Her sore distress
They too would throng with glee amid the press
That strove amain the lovely life to kill
At whose dear breasts their life had ta'en its fill,
Whose hands had flung them freedom for largesse?

Fools, knowing nought of Britain and Her breed!
The war-cry thrills through all Her coasts and seas,
And straight Her rebels start from mimic strife
To face the foe whose hate is hate indeed,
And clasp true hands, and fall on militant knees
To guard their Mother with their very life.]]>

Because Her sons waxed loud in wantonness
And cursed their mates in mood of angry will,
Nor hearkened when She bade the brawl be still,
Did ye then deem that in Her sore distress
They too would throng with glee amid the press
That strove amain the lovely life to kill
At whose dear breasts their life had ta'en its fill,
Whose hands had flung them freedom for largesse?

Fools, knowing nought of Britain and Her breed!
The war-cry thrills through all Her coasts and seas,
And straight Her rebels start from mimic strife
To face the foe whose hate is hate indeed,
And clasp true hands, and fall on militant knees
To guard their Mother with their very life.]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=20214 Sun, 22 Apr 2012 05:33:03 +0000 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=20214

Mother, Thy children strive at work and play
Within Thy House, and one is quick and proud,
And one is lusty-limbed and overloud,
And he goes brisk and laughing all the day,
And yonder lad loves little to obey,
And yonder lass broods, dark and sullen-browed,
And here a pair in passionate mood have vowed
That each will mar the other's life or slay.

And yet doom's toscin peals not from Thy towers
For fear within, since when he hears Thy cry
Each laggard life leafs up to serve Thy will:
Thy death lurks yonder, where the foeman cowers
With eyes of stealth that all Thy weakness spy,
And heart that lusts to work Thee deadly ill.]]>

Mother, Thy children strive at work and play
Within Thy House, and one is quick and proud,
And one is lusty-limbed and overloud,
And he goes brisk and laughing all the day,
And yonder lad loves little to obey,
And yonder lass broods, dark and sullen-browed,
And here a pair in passionate mood have vowed
That each will mar the other's life or slay.

And yet doom's toscin peals not from Thy towers
For fear within, since when he hears Thy cry
Each laggard life leafs up to serve Thy will:
Thy death lurks yonder, where the foeman cowers
With eyes of stealth that all Thy weakness spy,
And heart that lusts to work Thee deadly ill.]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=20213 Sun, 22 Apr 2012 05:11:36 +0000 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=20213

The sunlight laughs along the serried stone
About whose feet the wastrel tide runs free;
Light lie the shipmasts, fairy-like to see,
Athwart the royal city's splendour thrown;
On runs the noble river, wide and lone,
Like some great soul that presses to the sea
Where life is rendered to eternity
And eager thought hath rest in the Unknown.

So sets thy tide, my country, to the deep
Whose face is black with thunder near and far,
And vexed with fleering gusts and tyrannous rain.
Shall the cloud lift and give thee rest and sleep,
Or wilt thou 'mid the surge and crash of war
Shatter thy life against the invading main?]]>

The sunlight laughs along the serried stone
About whose feet the wastrel tide runs free;
Light lie the shipmasts, fairy-like to see,
Athwart the royal city's splendour thrown;
On runs the noble river, wide and lone,
Like some great soul that presses to the sea
Where life is rendered to eternity
And eager thought hath rest in the Unknown.

So sets thy tide, my country, to the deep
Whose face is black with thunder near and far,
And vexed with fleering gusts and tyrannous rain.
Shall the cloud lift and give thee rest and sleep,
Or wilt thou 'mid the surge and crash of war
Shatter thy life against the invading main?]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=20212 Sat, 21 Apr 2012 18:51:02 +0000 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=20212

The flashing oars leapt on, and when the race
Had left us hoarse, we sought thy lights and fun,
And found thee frolic; and when joy was done
And life looked stern in every laughing face,
Thou gav'st us wiser counsel of thy grace,
And when Fate caught us in our race half run
And bade us slave beneath a Southern sun
Not without tears we broke from thine embrace.

Then what though Spring kindle the Southern plain
And a great light laugh o'er the golden land?
Our hearts are yonder 'mid the roar and rain!
Blithe as of yore, we doff the Templar's gown,
And through the mist that shawls the evening Strand,
Go forth to greet the lights of London Town.]]>

The flashing oars leapt on, and when the race
Had left us hoarse, we sought thy lights and fun,
And found thee frolic; and when joy was done
And life looked stern in every laughing face,
Thou gav'st us wiser counsel of thy grace,
And when Fate caught us in our race half run
And bade us slave beneath a Southern sun
Not without tears we broke from thine embrace.

Then what though Spring kindle the Southern plain
And a great light laugh o'er the golden land?
Our hearts are yonder 'mid the roar and rain!
Blithe as of yore, we doff the Templar's gown,
And through the mist that shawls the evening Strand,
Go forth to greet the lights of London Town.]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=20211 Sat, 21 Apr 2012 17:30:48 +0000 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=20211

Thou gav'st us learning, lit with many an hour
Of mirth and wine, when tongues were brisk and gay,
Till on us stole the ancient proctor, Day.
Thou gav'st us joy in many a quiet bower
Where Cherwell slumbers 'neath the may aflower,
Thou gav'st us beauty, when the night was fey
With wonder, and the wizard moonlight lay
Soft on the ivy of the ensorcelled tower.

And now from sea to sea and pole to pole
We work Her hest for whom thou hast in fee
The lives of all thy children: and in all
We do of worth there shines some gleam of thee,
Throughout their blackest night our eyes recall
The morning grace that lit thy lovely soul.]]>

Thou gav'st us learning, lit with many an hour
Of mirth and wine, when tongues were brisk and gay,
Till on us stole the ancient proctor, Day.
Thou gav'st us joy in many a quiet bower
Where Cherwell slumbers 'neath the may aflower,
Thou gav'st us beauty, when the night was fey
With wonder, and the wizard moonlight lay
Soft on the ivy of the ensorcelled tower.

And now from sea to sea and pole to pole
We work Her hest for whom thou hast in fee
The lives of all thy children: and in all
We do of worth there shines some gleam of thee,
Throughout their blackest night our eyes recall
The morning grace that lit thy lovely soul.]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=20210 Sat, 21 Apr 2012 17:00:17 +0000 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=20210
Lady of all our lives, we found thee fair
When all thy pastures glowed and throbbed with June,
And either bank with meadow-sweet was boon
As down thy Stream we drifted, free of care;
And yet a lovelier garment thou didst wear
When Autumn walked thy meads with misty shoon,
And carved thy grey with many a crimson rune,
And lit thy paths with gold and russet rare.

Here in the South under an iron sky
The red wind flames o'er barren hills and sere,
Yet swift the muffled oars of memory ply
The restless passage of the years, and lo!
Once more across the golden flats appear
The dreaming spires, lit with the sunset's glow.]]>
Lady of all our lives, we found thee fair
When all thy pastures glowed and throbbed with June,
And either bank with meadow-sweet was boon
As down thy Stream we drifted, free of care;
And yet a lovelier garment thou didst wear
When Autumn walked thy meads with misty shoon,
And carved thy grey with many a crimson rune,
And lit thy paths with gold and russet rare.

Here in the South under an iron sky
The red wind flames o'er barren hills and sere,
Yet swift the muffled oars of memory ply
The restless passage of the years, and lo!
Once more across the golden flats appear
The dreaming spires, lit with the sunset's glow.]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=20209 Sat, 21 Apr 2012 16:46:42 +0000 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=20209 Exile


As on a mother's lap a boy may bow
His weary head, and kneel in ecstasy,
As the lost wretch whose hour of death is nigh
Loves the soft hand that soothes his throbbing brow,
As to the eyes that all his life endow
With all their light the lover's longings fly,
As to the dawn that kindles sea and sky
The poet kneels, with passion in his vow:

So, England, we thy sons across the seas
Turn evermore to thee, and pray, and pray
Once more to taste thy brine salt on our tongue,
And take the keen kiss of thy Western breeze
And bathe our lives in all thy golden May
-As erst, when thou wast kind, and we were young.]]> Exile


As on a mother's lap a boy may bow
His weary head, and kneel in ecstasy,
As the lost wretch whose hour of death is nigh
Loves the soft hand that soothes his throbbing brow,
As to the eyes that all his life endow
With all their light the lover's longings fly,
As to the dawn that kindles sea and sky
The poet kneels, with passion in his vow:

So, England, we thy sons across the seas
Turn evermore to thee, and pray, and pray
Once more to taste thy brine salt on our tongue,
And take the keen kiss of thy Western breeze
And bathe our lives in all thy golden May
-As erst, when thou wast kind, and we were young.]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=20208 Sat, 21 Apr 2012 16:28:22 +0000 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=20208

The night is thick with storm and driving cloud,
Lurid at instants through the blackness break
Quick gleams of war across the perilous lake
From yonder isles that awe and magic shroud:
Far in the northland smite Thor's hammers loud
On steel that warlocks for her spoilure make,
Till lo! from sleep Australia starts awake
And lifts the queenly head that sloth had bowed.

Not yet her eyes are clear: throughout her brain
Still swarm the antic creatures of her dream,
The idiot jests, the sports that kill the soul,
Yet shall not night lay hold on her again,
For through the rack she spies the morning gleam
Clear on the sword that lights her to her goal.]]>

The night is thick with storm and driving cloud,
Lurid at instants through the blackness break
Quick gleams of war across the perilous lake
From yonder isles that awe and magic shroud:
Far in the northland smite Thor's hammers loud
On steel that warlocks for her spoilure make,
Till lo! from sleep Australia starts awake
And lifts the queenly head that sloth had bowed.

Not yet her eyes are clear: throughout her brain
Still swarm the antic creatures of her dream,
The idiot jests, the sports that kill the soul,
Yet shall not night lay hold on her again,
For through the rack she spies the morning gleam
Clear on the sword that lights her to her goal.]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=20207 Sat, 21 Apr 2012 16:22:17 +0000 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=20207

Careless she lies along the Southern Main,
The lovely maiden, wanton with the spell
Of sun and vastness and the ocean swell:
Northward the warlocks watch her beauty, fain
To snatch her wealth of gold and fleece and grain,
And bend her being to their purpose fell:
But she lies lazy, and the passing bell
Of older glory stirs her sense in vain.

Nor shall she wake and know her danger near
Till some high heart and true, her fated lord,
Shall kiss her lips, and all her will control,
And fill her wayward heart with holy fear,
And cross her forehead with his iron sword,
And bring her strength, and armour, and a soul.]]>

Careless she lies along the Southern Main,
The lovely maiden, wanton with the spell
Of sun and vastness and the ocean swell:
Northward the warlocks watch her beauty, fain
To snatch her wealth of gold and fleece and grain,
And bend her being to their purpose fell:
But she lies lazy, and the passing bell
Of older glory stirs her sense in vain.

Nor shall she wake and know her danger near
Till some high heart and true, her fated lord,
Shall kiss her lips, and all her will control,
And fill her wayward heart with holy fear,
And cross her forehead with his iron sword,
And bring her strength, and armour, and a soul.]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=20206 Sat, 21 Apr 2012 15:09:29 +0000 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett-archiv.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=20206

Gallant is Spring along thy laughing hills,
With wattle's loveliest scent and gleam of gold,
When the good rain hath quickened all thy mold,
And the hot musk thine air with incense fills.
Sweet is the chime of all thy tinkling rills,
And fair thy Summer's glory to behold,
And soft is life for thee, the sunny-souled,
Far from the world and all its olden ills.

Yet 'tis not calm that builds the hero breed,
High hearts are tempered 'neath a stormy star,
Through want and danger doth the soul increase,
Stern rings the clarion voice of Angel Need
To bid thee vanquish self, and gaze afar
And save thy soul alive from Harlot Peace.]]>

Gallant is Spring along thy laughing hills,
With wattle's loveliest scent and gleam of gold,
When the good rain hath quickened all thy mold,
And the hot musk thine air with incense fills.
Sweet is the chime of all thy tinkling rills,
And fair thy Summer's glory to behold,
And soft is life for thee, the sunny-souled,
Far from the world and all its olden ills.

Yet 'tis not calm that builds the hero breed,
High hearts are tempered 'neath a stormy star,
Through want and danger doth the soul increase,
Stern rings the clarion voice of Angel Need
To bid thee vanquish self, and gaze afar
And save thy soul alive from Harlot Peace.]]>