Collected Poems 1897 - 1907, by Henry Newbolt - LightNovelsOnl.com
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Winning some one else's case?
Saving some one else's seat?
Hearing with a solemn face People of importance bleat?
No, I think we should not still Waste our time at others' will.
Summer noons beneath the limes, Summer rides at evening cool, Winter's tales and home-made rhymes, Figures on the frozen pool--- These would we for labours take, And of these our business make.
Ah! but neither you nor I Dare in earnest venture so; Still we let the good days die And to swell the reckoning go.
What are those that know the way, Yet to walk therein delay?
Felix Antonius
(After Martial)
To-day, my friend is seventy-five; He tells his tale with no regret; His brave old eyes are steadfast yet, His heart the .lightest heart alive.
He sees behind him green and wide The pathway of his pilgrim years; He sees the sh.o.r.e, and dreadless hears The whisper of the creeping tide.
For out of all his days, not one Has pa.s.sed and left its unlaid ghost To seek a light for ever lost, Or wail a deed for ever done.
So for reward of life-long truth He lives again, as good men can, Redoubling his allotted span With memories of a stainless youth.
Ireland, Ireland
Down thy valleys, Ireland, Ireland, Down thy valleys green and sad, Still thy spirit wanders wailing, Wanders wailing, wanders mad.
Long ago that anguish took thee, Ireland, Ireland, green and fair, Spoilers strong in darkness took thee, Broke thy heart and left thee there.
Down thy valleys, Ireland, Ireland, Still thy spirit wanders mad; All too late they love that wronged thee, Ireland, Ireland, green and sad.
Hymn
In The Time Of War And Tumults
O Lord Almighty, Thou whose hands Despair and victory give; In whom, though tyrants tread their lands, The souls of nations live;
Thou wilt not turn Thy face away From those who work Thy will, But send Thy peace on hearts that pray, And guard Thy people still.
Remember not the days of shame, The hands with rapine dyed, The wavering will, the baser aim, The brute material pride:
Remember, Lord, the years of faith, The spirits humbly brave, The strength that died defying death, The love that loved the slave:
The race that strove to rule Thine earth With equal laws unbought: .
Who bore for Truth the pangs of birth, And brake the bonds of Thought.
Remember how, since time began, Thy dark eternal mind Through lives of men that fear not man ls light for all mankind.
Thou wilt not turn Thy face away From those who work Thy will, But send Thy strength on hearts that pray For strength to serve Thee still.
The Building Of The Temple
(An Anthem Heard In Canterbury Cathedral)
[The Organ]
O Lord our G.o.d, we are strangers before Thee, and sojourners, as were all our fathers: our days on the earth are as a shadow, and there is none abiding.
O Lord G.o.d of our fathers, keep this for ever in the imagination of the thoughts of Thy people, and prepare their heart unto Thee.
And give unto Solomon my son a perfect heart to keep Thy commandments, and to build the palace for the which I have made provision.
[Boys' voices.]
O come to the Palace of Life, Let us build it again.
It was founded on terror and strife, It was laid in the curse of the womb, And pillared on toil and pain, And hung with veils of doom, And vaulted with the darkness of the tomb.
[Men's voices.]
O Lord our G.o.d, we are sojourners here for a day, Strangers and sojourners, as all our fathers were: Our years on the earth are a shadow that fadeth away; Grant us light for our labour, and a time for prayer.
[Boys.]
But now with endless song, And joy fulfilling the Law; Of pa.s.sion as pure as strong And pleasure undimmed of awe; With garners of wine and grain Laid up for the ages long, Let us build the Palace again And enter with endless song, Enter and dwell secure, forgetting the years of wrong.
[Men.]
O Lord our G.o.d, we are strangers and sojourners here, Our beginning was night, and our end is hid in Thee: Our labour on the earth is hope redeeming fear, In sorrow we build for the days we shall not see.
[Boys.]
Great is the name Of the strong and skilled, Lasting the fame Of them that build: The tongues of many nations Shall speak of our praise, And far generations Be glad for our days.
[Men.]
