TO DANIEL MANIN
If that most noble soul, which, here on earth,
Was known as Manin, yet have consciousness
Of what is, and what is not, being not less
Than here he was, in courage and in worth,
Seeing the world whereon we sweat and strive;
Shall he not know his Italy, and bless,
And in his own heart praise the steadfastness
That held him to his purpose when alive?
Shall he not have reward for all his pain,
Who, dying with his incompleted aim,
Saw failure only, and the bitter toll
Of loved ones lost, and lost, it seemed, in vain?
Must not that heart still keep his country's name,
Though o'er him all death's waters heave and roll?
TO THE LEADERS OF BOTH PARTIES
January 1910
"A people's voice, we are a people yet."
—TENNYSON'S Ode on Death of the Duke of Wellington.
Think on your birthright, England! On that voice
Which sounded first the ringing clarion note
Of freedom, and the ears of mankind smote
With that brave speech, whose hearing does rejoice
The angels (in his starry sphere remote
Each sitting). Think upon your past, my land;
The heart to wish, the will to dare, the hand
To do the right, though round the senses float
The Protean shapes of evil. We have struck
To free the slave, against a world in doubt;
Have raised the grovelling from their muddy ruck
And made them men; our foes once put to rout
We give them justice; we have scorned to truck
In gold for blood, and fatten on such spoil—
To others be the gain, to us the toil.
Oh, once more, England, let that voice ring out!
Alas! thou now dost hide thy Titan self
In a drab's clothing, lies; whilst, false and shrill,
Thy people squabble for the dirty pelf
Of office, at the hustings; while they fill
Our streets with lies, that, from the naked walls,
Mouth blatantly upon us, open shame;
While throughout Europe goes thy honoured name,
Grimacing in a mask of Party brawls.