eful breath take life and lighten, and
praise his choice:
Chosen are they to devour for prey the tribes that hear not and
fear his voice.
Ay, but we that the wind and sea gird round with shelter of storms
and waves
Know not him that ye worship, grim as dreams that quicken from dead
men's graves:
God is one with the sea, the sun, the land that nursed us, the love
that saves.
Love whose heart is in ours, and part of all things noble and all
things fair;
Sweet and free as the circling sea, sublime and kind as the
fostering air;
Pure of shame as is England's name, whose crowns to come are as
crowns that were.
IV
I
But the Lord of darkness, the God whose love is a flaming fire,
The master whose mercy fulfils wide hell till its torturers tire,
He shall surely have heed of his servants who serve him for love,
not hire.
They shall fetter the wing of the wind whose pinions are plumed
with foam:
For now shall thy horn be exalted, and now shall thy bolt strike
home;
Yea, now shall thy kingdom come, Lord God of the priests of Rome.
They shall cast thy curb on the waters, and bridle the waves of the
sea:
They shall say to her, Peace, be still: and stillness and peace
shall be:
And the winds and the storms shall hear them, and tremble, and
worship thee.
Thy breath shall darken the morning, and wither the mounting sun;
And the daysprings, frozen and fettered, shall know thee, and cease
to run;
The heart of the world shall feel thee, and die, and thy will be
done.
The spirit of man that would sound thee, and search out causes of
things,
Shall shrink and subside and praise thee: and wisdom, with
plume-plucked wings,
Shall cower at thy feet and confess thee, that none may fathom thy
springs.
The fountains of song that await but the wind of an April to be
To burst the bonds of the winter, and speak with the sound of a
sea,
The blast of thy mouth shall quench them: and song shall be only of
thee.
The days that are dead shall quicken, the seasons that were shall
return;
And the streets and the pastures of England, the woods
|