The Commonweal

I     Eight hundred years and twenty-one     Have shone and sunken since the land     Whose name is freedom bore such brand     As marks a captive, and the sun     Beheld her fettered hand. II     But ere dark time had shed as rain     Or sown on sterile earth as seed     That bears no fruit save tare and weed     An age and half an age again,     She rose on Runnymede. III     Out of the shadow, starlike still,     She rose up radiant in her right,     And spake, and put to fear and flight     The lawless rule of awless will     That pleads no right save might. IV     Nor since hath England ever borne     The burden laid on subject lands,     The rule that curbs and binds all hands     Save one, and marks for servile scorn     The heads it bows and brands. V     A commonweal arrayed and crowned     With gold and purple, girt with steel     At need, that foes must fear or feel,     We find her, as our fathers found,     Earth's lordliest commonweal. VI     And now that fifty years are flown     Since in a maiden's hand the sign     Of empire that no seas confine     First as a star to seaward shone,     We see their record shine. VII     A troubled record, foul and fair,     A simple record and serene,     Inscribes for praise a blameless queen,     For praise and blame an age of care     And change and ends unseen. VIII     Hope, wide of eye and wild of wing,     Rose with the sundawn of a reign     Whose grace should make the rough ways plain,     And fill the worn old world with spring,     And heal its heart of pain. IX     Peace was to be on earth; men's hope     Was holier than their fathers had,     Their wisdom not more wise than glad:     They saw the gates of promise ope,     And heard what love's lips bade. X     Love armed with knowledge, winged and wise,     Should hush the wind of war, and see,     They said, the sun of days to be     Bring round beneath serener skies     A stormless jubilee. XI     Time, in the darkness unbeholden     That hides him from the sight of fear     And lets but dreaming hope draw near,     Smiled and was sad to hear such golden     Strains hail the all-golden year. XII     Strange clouds have risen between, and wild     Red stars of storm that lit the abyss     Wherein fierce fraud and violence kiss     And mock such promise as beguiled     The fiftieth year from this. XIII     War upon war, change after change,     Hath shaken thrones and towers to dust,     And hopes austere and faiths august     Have watched in patience stern and strange     Men's works unjust and just. XIV     As from some Alpine watch-tower's portal     Night, living yet, looks forth for dawn,     So from time's mistier mountain lawn     The spirit of man, in trust immortal,     Yearns toward a hope withdrawn. XV     The morning comes not, yet the night     Wanes, and men's eyes win strength to see     Where twilight is, where light shall be     When conquered wrong and conquering right     Acclaim a world set free. XVI     Calm as our mother-land, the mother     Of faith and freedom, pure and wise,     Keeps watch beneath unchangeful skies,     When hath she watched the woes of other     Strange lands with alien eyes? XVII     Calm as she stands alone, what nation     Hath lacked an alms from English hands?     What exiles from what stricken lands     Have lacked the shelter of the station     Where higher than all she stands? XVIII     Though time discrown and change dismantle     The pride of thrones and towers that frown,     How should they bring her glories down     The sea cast round her like a mantle,     The sea-cloud like a crown? XIX     The sea, divine as heaven and deathless,     Is hers, and none but only she     Hath learnt the sea's word, none but we     Her children hear in heart the breathless     Bright watchword of the sea. XX     Heard not of others, or misheard     Of many a land for many a year,     The watchword Freedom fails not here     Of hearts that witness if the word     Find faith in England's ear. XXI     She, first to love the light, and daughter     Incarnate of the northern dawn,     She, round whose feet the wild waves fawn     When all their wrath of warring water     Sounds like a babe's breath drawn, XXII     How should not she best know, love best,     And best of all souls understand     The very soul of freedom, scanned     Far off, sought out in darkling quest     By men at heart unmanned? XXIII     They climb and fall, ensnared, enshrouded,     By mists of words and toils they set     To take themselves, 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 this year. L     With just and sacred jubilation     Let earth sound answer to the sea     For witness, blown on winds as free,     How England, how her crowning nation,     Acclaims this jubilee.