Poems and Ballads (Third Series) | Page 5

till fierce regret
Grows mad with
shame, and all their clouded
Red skies hang sunless yet.
XXIV
But us the sun, not wholly risen
Nor equal now for all, illumes
With
more of light than cloud that looms;
Of light that leads forth souls
from prison
And breaks the seals of tombs.
XXV
Did not her breasts who reared us rear
Him who took heaven in hand,
and weighed
Bright world with world in balance laid?
What
Newton's might could make not clear
Hath Darwin's might not made?
XXVI
The forces of the dark dissolve,
The doorways of the dark are broken:

The word that casts out night is spoken,
And whence the springs of
things evolve
Light born of night bears token.
XXVII
She, loving light for light's sake only,
And truth for only truth's, and
song
For song's sake and the sea's, how long
Hath she not borne the
world her lonely
Witness of right and wrong?
XXVIII
From light to light her eyes imperial
Turn, and require the further
light,
More perfect than the sun's in sight,
Till star and sun seem all
funereal
Lamps of the vaulted night.
XXIX

She gazes till the strenuous soul
Within the rapture of her eyes

Creates or bids awake, arise,
The light she looks for, pure and whole

And worshipped of the wise.
XXX
Such sons are hers, such radiant hands
Have borne abroad her lamp
of old,
Such mouths of honey-dropping gold
Have sent across all
seas and lands
Her fame as music rolled.
XXXI
As music made of rolling thunder
That hurls through heaven its heart
sublime,
Its heart of joy, in charging chime,
So ring the songs that
round and under
Her temple surge and climb.
XXXII
A temple not by men's hands builded,
But moulded of the spirit, and
wrought
Of passion and imperious thought;
With light beyond all
sunlight gilded,
Whereby the sun seems nought.
XXXIII
Thy shrine, our mother, seen for fairer
Than even thy natural face,
made fair
With kisses of thine April air
Even now, when spring thy
banner-bearer
Took up thy sign to bear;
XXXIV
Thine annual sign from heaven's own arch
Given of the sun's hand
into thine,
To rear and cheer each wildwood shrine
But now laid
waste by wild-winged March,
March, mad with wind like wine.
XXXV

From all thy brightening downs whereon
The windy seaward
whin-flower shows
Blossom whose pride strikes pale the rose
Forth
is the golden watchword gone
Whereat the world's face glows.
XXXVI
Thy quickening woods rejoice and ring
Till earth seems glorious as
the sea:
With yearning love too glad for glee
The world's heart
quivers toward the spring
As all our hearts toward thee.
XXXVII
Thee, mother, thee, our queen, who givest
Assurance to the heavens
most high
And earth whereon her bondsmen sigh
That by the sea's
grace while thou livest
Hope shall not wholly die.
XXXVIII
That while thy free folk hold the van
Of all men, and the sea-spray
shed
As dew more heavenly on thy head
Keeps bright thy face in
sight of man,
Man's pride shall drop not dead.
XXXIX
A pride more pure than humblest prayer,
More wise than wisdom
born of doubt,
Girds for thy sake men's hearts about
With trust and
triumph that despair
And fear may cast not out.
XL
Despair may wring men's hearts, and fear
Bow down their heads to
kiss the dust,
Where patriot memories rot and rust,
And change
makes faint a nation's cheer,
And faith yields up her trust.
XLI

Not here this year have true men known,
Not here this year may true
men know,
That brand of shame-compelling woe
Which bids but
brave men shrink or groan
And lays but honour low.
XLII
The strong spring wind blows notes of praise,
And hallowing pride of
heart, and cheer
Unchanging, toward all true men here
Who hold
the trust of ancient days
High as of old this year.
XLIII
The days that made thee great are dead;
The days that now must keep
thee great
Lie not in keeping of thy fate;
In thine they lie, whose
heart and head
Sustain thy charge of state.
XLIV
No state so proud, no pride so just,
The sun, through clouds at sunrise
curled
Or clouds across the sunset whirled,
Hath sight of, nor has
man such trust
As thine in all the world.
XLV
Each hour that sees the sunset's crest
Make bright thy shores ere day
decline
Sees dawn the sun on shores of thine,
Sees west as east and
east as west
On thee their sovereign shine.
XLVI
The sea's own heart must needs wax proud
To have borne the world a
child like thee.
What birth of earth might ever be
Thy sister? Time,
a wandering cloud,
Is sunshine on thy sea.
XLVII

Change mars not her; and thee, our mother,
What change that irks or
moves thee mars?
What shock that shakes? what chance that jars?

Time gave thee, as he gave none other,
A station like a star's.
XLVIII
The storm that shrieks, the wind that wages
War with the wings of
hopes that climb
Too high toward heaven in doubt sublime,
Assail
not thee, approved of ages
The towering crown of time.
XLIX
Toward thee this year thy children turning
With souls uplift of
changeless cheer
Salute with love that casts out fear,
With hearts
for beacons round thee burning,
The token of