POSTHUMOUS POEMS
When all a forger's fame
Is shrivelled up in shame;
When all imperial notes of praise and prayer
And hoarse thanksgiving raised
To the abject God they praised
For murderous mercies are but poisonous air;
When Bismarck and his William lie
Low even as he they warred on—damned too deep to die.
Is shrivelled up in shame;
When all imperial notes of praise and prayer
And hoarse thanksgiving raised
To the abject God they praised
For murderous mercies are but poisonous air;
When Bismarck and his William lie
Low even as he they warred on—damned too deep to die.
For how should history bid
Their names go free, lie hid,
Stand scathless of her Tacitean brand?
From them forgetfulness,
Too bright a boon to bless
Crime deep as hell, withholds her healing hand;
But while their fame was fresh and rank
The old light of German glory here nor sank nor shrank.
Their names go free, lie hid,
Stand scathless of her Tacitean brand?
From them forgetfulness,
Too bright a boon to bless
Crime deep as hell, withholds her healing hand;
But while their fame was fresh and rank
The old light of German glory here nor sank nor shrank.
Here, where all wrongs find aid,
Where all foul strengths are stayed,
Where empire means not evil, here was one
Whose glance, whose smile, whose voice
Bade all their souls rejoice
Who hailed in sight of English sea and sun
A head sublime as theirs who died
For England ere her praise was Freedom's crowning pride.
Where all foul strengths are stayed,
Where empire means not evil, here was one
Whose glance, whose smile, whose voice
Bade all their souls rejoice
Who hailed in sight of English sea and sun
A head sublime as theirs who died
For England ere her praise was Freedom's crowning pride.
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