4II

& Scotland

412

AND did those feet in ancient time
Walk upon England's mountains green?
And was the holy Lamb of God
On England's pleasant pastures seen?
And did the Countenance Divine
Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
And was Jerusalem builded here
Among these dark Satanic mills?

Bring me my Bow of burning gold!
Bring me my Arrows of desire!
Bring me my Spear! O clouds, unfold!
Bring me my Chariot of fire!

I will not cease from Mental Fight,
Nor shall my Sword sleep in my hand,
Till we have built Jerusalem

In England's green and pleasant land.

BREATHES there the man, with soul so dead,
Who never to himself hath said,

'This is my own, my native land!'
Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned,
As home his footsteps he hath turned,
From wandering on a foreign strand ?

O Caledonia! stern and wild,
Meet nurse for a poetic child!
Land of brown heath and shaggy wood,
Land of the mountain and the flood,
Land of my sires! what mortal hand
Can e'er untie the filial band,

That knits me to thy rugged strand! ...

Heroism

413

Ay, tear his body limb from limb,
Bring cord, or axe, or flame:
He only knows, that not through him
Shall England come to shame.

414

OH HOW comely it is and how reviving
To the Spirits of just men long opprest!
When God into the hands of thir deliverer
Puts invincible might

To quell the mighty of the Earth, th' oppressour,
The brute and boist'rous force of violent men
Hardy and industrious to support

Tyrannic power, but raging to pursue

The righteous and all such as honour Truth;
He all thir Ammunition

And feats of War defeats

With plain Heroic magnitude of mind

And celestial vigour arm'd,

Thir Armories and Magazins contemns,
Renders them useless, while
With winged expedition

Swift as the lightning glance he executes
His errand on the wicked, who surpris'd
Lose thir defence distracted and amaz'd.

But patience is more oft the exercise
Of Saints, the trial of thir fortitude,
Making them each his own Deliverer,
And Victor over all

That tyrannie or fortune can inflict. . .

415

416

417

The Fight against Evil

GIRD on thy sword and join in the fight!

Fight, O my brother, so long as life lasteth!

Strike off the enemy's head and there make an end of him quickly :

Then come, bow thyself in the King's Assembly. A brave man leaveth not the battle;

He who flieth from it is no true warrior.

In the field of this body a great war is toward
Against Passion Anger Pride and Greed.

It is for the kingdom of Truth of Contentment and of
Purity that this battle is raging:

And the sword that ringeth most loudly is the sword
of His Name. . .

A

power from the unknown God,

A Promethean conqueror, came;
Like a triumphal path he trod

The thorns of death and shame.

A mortal shape to him

Was like the vapour dim

Which the orient planet animates with light. . .

ARM yourselves, and be ye men of valour, and be in readiness for the conflict: for it is better for us to perish in battle than to look upon the outrage of our nation and our altars. As the will of God is in heaven, even so let Him do.

418

419

420

Service

USE me, England,
in thine hour of need,
Let thy ruling
rule me now in deed.

Sons and brothers

take for armoury,

All love's jewels crushed, thy warpath be!

Thou hast given
joyous life and free,
Life whose joy now
anguisheth for thee.

Give then, England,
if my life thou need,
Gift yet fairer,
Death, thy life to feed.

THEY truly live who yield their lives fighting against the foe in the fierce battle amid the flash of swords and the whirling of the spear:

The men of ancient race that were foremost in the fight wielding their swords; who stood in the mellay as some mountain-top rises above the flood: What wonder if their glory liveth when all dissemblers have passed away!

WHO is the happy Warrior? Who is he
That every man in arms should wish to be?

The Happy Warrior

-It is the generous Spirit, who, when brought Among the tasks of real life, hath wrought Upon the plan that pleased his boyish thought: Whose high endeavours are an inward light That makes the path before him always bright: Who, with a natural instinct to discern What knowledge can perform, is diligent to learn; Abides by this resolve, and stops not there, But makes his moral being his prime care; Who, doomed to go in company with Pain, And Fear, and Bloodshed, miserable train! Turns his necessity to glorious gain; In face of these doth exercise a power Which is our human nature's highest dower; Controls them and subdues, transmutes, bereaves Of their bad influence, and their good receives: By objects, which might force the soul to abate Her feeling, rendered more compassionate; Is placable because occasions rise

So often that demand such sacrifice;

More skilful in self-knowledge, even more pure,
As tempted more; more able to endure,
As more exposed to suffering and distress;
Thence, also, more alive to tenderness.

'Tis he whose law is reason; who depends
Upon that law as on the best of friends;
Whence, in a state where men are tempted still
To evil for a guard against worse ill,
And what in quality or act is best
Doth seldom on a right foundation rest,
He labours good on good to fix, and owes
To virtue every triumph that he knows:
-Who, if he rise to station of command,
Rises by open means; and there will stand
On honourable terms, or else retire,

T