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In that world's-earthquake, Waterloo !
Touch a spirit among things divine,
Be glad, because his bones are laid by thine !
And thro' the centuries let a people's voice
In full acclaim,
A people's voice,
With honour, honour, honour, honour to him,
Eternal honour to his name.
A people's voice ! we are a people yet.
We have a voice, with which to pay the debt
Of boundless love and reverence and regret
To those great men who fought, and kept it ours. And keep it ours, O God, from brute control;
O Statesmen, guard us, guard the eye, the soul Of Europe, keep our noble England whole,
And save the one true seed of freedom sown
Betwixt a people and their ancient throne,
For, saving that, ye help to save mankind
Till public wrong be crumbled into dust,
And drill the raw world for the march of mind,
Till crowds at length be sane and crowns be just.
But wink no more in slothful overtrust.
Remember him who led your hosts ;
He bad you guard the sacred coasts.
Your cannons moulder on the seaward wall ;
His voice is silent in
For ever; and whatever tempests lour
For ever silent; even if they broke
He spoke among you, and the Man who spoke ;
Who never sold the truth to serve the hour,
Nor palter'd with Eternal God for power;
Who let the turbid streams of rumour flow
Thro' either babbling world of high and low ;
With rugged maxims hewn from life ;
Who never spoke against a foe;
Whose eighty winters freeze with one rebuke
Truth-teller was our England's Alfred named ;
Truth-lover was our English Duke ;
He never shall be shamed.
Lo, the leader in these glorious wars
Follow'd by the brave of other lands,
Lavish Honour shower'd all her stars,
And affluent Fortune emptied all her horn. Yea, let all good things await
Him who cares not to be great,
But as he saves or serves the state.
Not once or twice in our rough island-story,
The path of duty was the way to glory :
For the right, and learns to deaden
Love of self, before his journey closes,
He shall find the stubborn thistle bursting
Into glossy purples, which outredden
All voluptuous garden-roses.
On with toil of heart and knees and hands,
Thro' the long gorge to the far light has won
Are close upon the shining table-lands
To which our God Himself is moon and sun.
Such was he : his work is done.
But while the races of mankind endure,
Let his great example stand
Colossal, seen of every land,
And let the land whose hearths he saved from shame