Love Letters of a Violinist and Other Poems Part 36

O proud and pure! O gentle and sublime!

For thee and thine, O Freedom! O my Joy!

For thee, Celestial! on the sh.o.r.es of time A throne is built which no man shall destroy.

Thou shalt be seen for miles and miles around And wield a sceptre, though of none be crowned.

The waves shall know thee, and the winds of Heaven Shall sing thee songs with mixed and mighty steven.

XII.

_O sunlike Liberty, with eyes of flame,_ _Mother and maid, immortal, unconfined!_ _Fairest and first art thou in name and fame,_ _And thou shalt speed more swiftly than the wind!_

XIII.

Who loves thee not is traitor to himself, Traitor is he to G.o.d and to the grave, Poor as a miser with his load of pelf, And more unstable than a leeward wave.

Cursed is he for aye, and his shall be A name of shame from sea to furthest sea, A name of scorn to all men under sun Whose upright souls have learnt to loathe this one.

XIV.

A thousand times, O Freedom! have I turned To thy rapt face, and wished that martyr-wise I might achieve some glory, such as burned Within the depths of Gordon's azure eyes.

Ah G.o.d! how sweet it were to give thee life, To aid thy cause, self-sinking in the strife, Loving thee best, O Freedom! and in tears Giving thee thanks for death-accepted years.

XV.

For thou art fearful, though so grand of soul, Fearful and fearless and the friend of men.

The haughtiest kings shall bow to thy control, And rich and poor shall take thy guidance then.

Who doubts the daylight when he sees afar The fading lamp of some night-weary star, Which prophet-like, has heard amid the dark The first faint prelude of the nested lark?

XVI.

_O sunlike Liberty, with eyes of flame,_ _Mother and maid, immortal, prompt of thought!_ _Fairest and first art thou in name and fame,_ _And thou shalt lash the storm till it be nought!_

XVII.

O thou desired of men! O thou supreme And true-toned spirit whom the bards revere!

At times thou com'st in likeness of a dream To urge rebellion, with a face austere; And by that power thou hast--e'en by that power Which is the outcome of thy sovereign-dower-- Thou teachest slaves, down-trodden, how to stand Lords of themselves in each chivalrous Land.

XVIII.

The hosts of death, the squadrons of the law, The arm'd appeal to pageantry and hate, Shall serve, a s.p.a.ce, to keep thy name in awe, And then collapse, as old and out of date.

Yea! this shall be; for G.o.d has willed it so.

And none shall touch thy flag, to lay it low; And none shall rend thy robe, that is to thee As dawn to day, as sunlight to the sea.

XIX.

For love of thee, thou grand, thou gracious thing!

For love of thee all seas, and every sh.o.r.e, And all domains whereof the poets sing, Shall merge in Man's requirements evermore.

And there shall be, full soon, from north to south, From east to west, by Wisdom's word of mouth One code of laws that all shall understand, And all the world shall be one Fatherland.

XX.

_O sunlike Liberty, with eyes of flame,_ _Mother and maid, immortal, sweet of breath!_ _Fairest and first art thou in name and fame,_ _And thou shalt pluck Redemption out of Death!_

Italian Poems

BY ERIC MACKAY

LA ZINGARELLA.

IL PONTE D'AVIGLIO.

I MIEI SALUTI.

LA ZINGARELLA.

I.

Dimmi, dimmi, o trovatore, Tu che canti sul luto, Bello e bruno e pien d'amore Dalla valle in su venuto, Non ti fermi sull' altura Per mostrar la tua bravura?

Non mi canti sul burrone Qualche lieta tua canzone?

II.

--Zingarella, in sulla sera Canta bene il rosignolo, Piange e canta in sua preghiera Salutando un dolce suolo.

Ma il luto al mio toccare Pianger sa, non sa pregare ...

Deh! che vuoi col tuo sorriso, Tu che sai di paradiso?

III.

--V sentire in tuo linguaggio Come e fatto un uom fedele, Se l'amor lo fa selvaggio, Se il destin lo fa crudele.

Parla schietto; son profana Ma ben leggo l'alma umana.

Parla pur dei tuoi vaggi Nei deserti e nei villaggi.