Iii

And now—methinks I gaze upon thee now, As on a serpent in his agonies Awestricken Indians; what time laid low And crushing the thick fragrant reeds he lies, When the new year warm breathed on the earth, Waiting to light him with his purple skies, Calls to him by the fountain to uprise. Already with the pangs of a new birth Strain the hot spheres of his convulsed eyes, And in his writhings awful hues begin To wander down his sable sheeny sides, Like light on troubled waters: from within Anon he rusheth forth with merry din, And in him light and joy and strength abides; And from his brows a crown of living light Looks through the thickstemmed woods by day and night.

The Kraken

Reprinted without alteration, except in the spelling of “antient,” among Juvenilia in 1871 and onward.

Below the thunders of the upper deep; Far, far beneath in the abysmal sea, His antient, dreamless, uninvaded sleep The Kraken sleepeth: faintest sunlights flee About his shadowy sides: above him swell Huge sponges of millennial growth and height; And far away into the sickly light, From many a wondrous grot and secret cell Unnumber’d and enormous polypi Winnow with giant arms the slumbering green. There hath he lain for ages and will lie Battening upon huge seaworms in his sleep, Until the latter fire shall heat the deep; Then once by man and angels to be seen, In roaring he shall rise and on the surface die.

English War Song

Who fears to die? Who fears to die? Is there any here who fears to die He shall find what he fears, and none shall grieve For the man who fears to die; But the withering scorn of the many shall cleave To the man who fears to die.

Chorus.— Shout for England! Ho! for England! George for England! Merry England! England for aye!

The hollow at heart shall crouch forlorn, He shall eat the bread of common scorn; It shall be steeped in the salt, salt tear, Shall be steeped in his own salt tear: Far better, far better he never were born Than to shame merry England here.

Chorus.—Shout for England! etc.

There standeth our ancient enemy; Hark! he shouteth—the ancient enemy! On the ridge of the hill his banners rise; They stream like fire in the skies; Hold up the Lion of England on high Till it dazzle and blind his eyes.

Chorus.—Shout for England! etc.

Come along! we alone of the earth are free; The child in our cradles is bolder than he; For where is the heart and strength of slaves? Oh! where is the strength of slaves? He is weak! we are strong; he a slave, we are free; Come along! we will dig their graves.

Chorus.—Shout for England! etc.

There standeth our ancient enemy; Will he dare to battle with the free? Spur along! spur amain! charge to the fight: Charge! charge to the fight! Hold up the Lion of England on high! Shout for God and our right!

Chorus.-Shout for England! etc.

National Song

There is no land like England Where’er the light of day be; There are no hearts like English hearts, Such hearts of oak as they be. There is no land like England Where’er the light of day be; There are no men like Englishmen, So tall and bold as they be.

Chorus.

For the French the Pope may shrive ’em, For the devil a whit we heed ’em, As for the French, God speed ’em Unto their hearts’ desire, And the merry devil drive ’em Through the water and the fire.

Chorus.

Our glory is our freedom, We lord it o’er the sea; We are the sons of freedom, We are free.

There is no land like England, Where’er the light of day be; There are no wives like English wives, So fair and chaste as they be. There is no land like England, Where’er the light of day be; There are no maids like English maids, So beautiful as they be.

Chorus.—For the French, etc.

Dualisms

Two bees within a chrystal flowerbell rocked Hum a lovelay to the westwind at noontide. Both alike, they buzz together, Both alike, they hum together Through and through the flowered heather.

Where in a creeping cove the wave unshocked Lays itself calm and wide, Over a stream two birds of glancing feather Do woo each other, carolling together. Both alike, they glide together Side by side; Both alike, they sing together, Arching blue-glossed necks beneath the purple weather.

Two children lovelier than Love, adown the lea are singing, As they gambol, lilygarlands ever stringing: Both in blosmwhite silk are frockèd: Like, unlike, they roam together Under a summervault of golden weather; Like, unlike, they sing together Side by side, Mid May’s darling goldenlockèd, Summer’s tanling diamondeyed.

We are Free

The winds, as at their hour of birth, Leaning upon the ridged sea, Breathed low around the rolling earth With mellow preludes, “We are Free”; The streams through many a lilied row, Down-carolling to the crispèd sea, Low-tinkled with a bell-like flow Atween the blossoms, “We are free”.

οἱ ῥέοντες