No More Learning

She is Thine own pure soul _15
Moulding the mighty whole,--
God save the Queen!
She is Thine own deep love
Rained down from Heaven above,--
Wherever she rest or move, _20
God save our Queen!

4.
'Wilder her enemies
In their own dark disguise,--
God save our Queen!
All earthly things that dare _25
Her sacred name to bear,
Strip them, as kings are, bare;
God save the Queen!

5.
Be her eternal throne
Built in our hearts alone-- _30
God save the Queen!
Let the oppressor hold
Canopied seats of gold;
She sits enthroned of old
O'er our hearts Queen. _35

6.
Lips touched by seraphim
Breathe out the choral hymn
'God save the Queen! '
Sweet as if angels sang,
Loud as that trumpet's clang _40
Wakening the world's dead gang,--
God save the Queen!

***


SONNET: ENGLAND IN 1819.

[Published by Mrs. Shelley, "Poetical Works", 1839, 1st edition. ]

An old, mad, blind, despised, and dying king,--
Princes, the dregs of their dull race, who flow
Through public scorn,--mud from a muddy spring,--
Rulers who neither see, nor feel, nor know,
But leech-like to their fainting country cling, _5
Till they drop, blind in blood, without a blow,--
A people starved and stabbed in the untilled field,--
An army, which liberticide and prey
Makes as a two-edged sword to all who wield,--
Golden and sanguine laws which tempt and slay; _10
Religion Christless, Godless--a book sealed;
A Senate,--Time's worst statute, unrepealed,--
Are graves from which a glorious Phantom may
Burst, to illumine our tempestuous day.
***


AN ODE, WRITTEN OCTOBER, 1819,
BEFORE THE SPANIARDS HAD RECOVERED THEIR LIBERTY.

[Published with "Prometheus Unbound", 1820. ]

Arise, arise, arise!
There is blood on the earth that denies ye bread;
Be your wounds like eyes
To weep for the dead, the dead, the dead.
What other grief were it just to pay? _5
Your sons, your wives, your brethren, were they;
Who said they were slain on the battle day?

Awaken, awaken, awaken!
The slave and the tyrant are twin-born foes;
Be the cold chains shaken _10
To the dust where your kindred repose, repose:
Their bones in the grave will start and move,
When they hear the voices of those they love,
Most loud in the holy combat above.

Wave, wave high the banner! _15
When Freedom is riding to conquest by:
Though the slaves that fan her
Be Famine and Toil, giving sigh for sigh.
And ye who attend her imperial car,
Lift not your hands in the banded war, _20
But in her defence whose children ye are.

Glory, glory, glory,
To those who have greatly suffered and done!
Never name in story
Was greater than that which ye shall have won. _25
Conquerors have conquered their foes alone,
Whose revenge, pride, and power they have overthrown
Ride ye, more victorious, over your own.

Bind, bind every brow
With crownals of violet, ivy, and pine: _30
Hide the blood-stains now
With hues which sweet Nature has made divine:
Green strength, azure hope, and eternity:
But let not the pansy among them be;
Ye were injured, and that means memory. _35

***


CANCELLED STANZA.