The Ballad of St. Barbara Part 5

FOR FOUR GUILDS:

III. THE STONE-MASONS

We have graven the mountain of G.o.d with hands, As our hands were graven of G.o.d, they say, Where the seraphs burn in the sun like brands And the devils carry the rains away; Making a thrift of the throats of h.e.l.l, Our gargoyles gather the roaring rain, Whose yawn is more than a frozen yell And their very vomiting not in vain.

Wilder than all that a tongue can utter, Wiser than all that is told in words, The wings of stone of the soaring gutter Fly out and follow the flight of the birds; The rush and rout of the angel wars Stand out above the astounded street, Where we flung our gutters against the stars For a sign that the first and the last shall meet.

We have graven the forest of heaven with hands, Being great with a mirth too gross for pride, In the stone that battered him Stephen stands And Peter himself is petrified: Such hands as have grubbed in the glebe for bread Have bidden the blank rock blossom and thrive, Such hands as have stricken a live man dead Have struck, and stricken the dead alive.

Fold your hands before heaven in praying, Lift up your hands into heaven and cry; But look where our dizziest spires are saying What the hands of a man did up in the sky: Drenched before you have heard the thunder, White before you have felt the snow; For the giants lift up their hands to wonder How high the hands of a man could go.

FOR FOUR GUILDS:

IV. THE BELL-RINGERS

The angels are singing like birds in a tree In the organ of good St. Cecily: And the parson reads with his hand upon The graven eagle of great St. John: But never the fluted pipes shall go Like the fifes of an army all a-row, Merrily marching down the street To the marts where the busy and idle meet; And never the brazen bird shall fly Out of the window and into the sky, Till men in cities and shires and ships Look up at the living Apocalypse.

But all can hark at the dark of even The bells that bay like the hounds of heaven, Tolling and telling that over and under, In the ways of the air like a wandering thunder, The hunt is up over hills untrod: For the wind is the way of the dogs of G.o.d: From the tyrant's tower to the outlaw's den Hunting the souls of the sons of men.

Ruler and robber and pedlar and peer, Who will not harken and yet will hear; Filling men's heads with the hurry and hum Making them welcome before they come.

And we poor men stand under the steeple Drawing the cords that can draw the people, And in our leash like the leaping dogs Are G.o.d's most deafening demagogues: And we are but little, like dwarfs underground, While hang up in heaven the houses of sound, Moving like mountains that faith sets free, Yawning like caverns that roar with the sea, As awfully loaded, as airily buoyed, Armoured archangels that trample the void: Wild as with dancing and weighty with dooms, Heavy as their panoply, light as their plumes.

Neither preacher nor priest are we: Each man mount to his own degree: Only remember that just such a cord Tosses in heaven the trumpet and sword; Souls on their terraces, saints on their towers, Rise up in arms at alarum like ours: Glow like great watchfires that redden the skies t.i.tans whose wings are a glory of eyes, Crowned constellations by twelves and by sevens, Domed dominations more old than the heavens, Virtues that thunder and thrones that endure Sway like a bell to the prayers of the poor.

THE CONVERT

After one moment when I bowed my head And the whole world turned over and came upright, And I came out where the old road shone white, I walked the ways and heard what all men said, Forests of tongues, like autumn leaves unshed, Being not unlovable but strange and light; Old riddles and new creeds, not in despite But softly, as men smile about the dead.

The sages have a hundred maps to give That trace their crawling cosmos like a tree, They rattle reason out through many a sieve That stores the sand and lets the gold go free: And all these things are less than dust to me Because my name is Lazarus and I live.

SONGS OF EDUCATION

SONGS OF EDUCATION:

I. HISTORY

_Form 991785, Sub-Section D_

The Roman threw us a road, a road, And sighed and strolled away: The Saxon gave us a raid, a raid, A raid that came to stay; The Dane went west, but the Dane confessed That he went a bit too far; And we all became, by another name, The Imperial race we are.

_Chorus_

The Imperial race, the inscrutable race, The invincible race we are.

Though Suss.e.x hills are bare, are bare, And Suss.e.x weald is wide, From Chichester to Chester Men saw the Norman ride; He threw his sword in the air and sang To a sort of a light guitar; It was all the same, for we all became The identical n.o.bs we are.

_Chorus_

The identical n.o.bs, individual n.o.bs Unmistakable n.o.bs we are.

The people lived on the land, the land, They pottered about and prayed; They built a cathedral here and there Or went on a small crusade: Till the bones of Becket were bundled out For the fun of a fat White Czar, And we all became, in spoil and flame, The intelligent lot we are.

_Chorus_

The intelligent lot, the intuitive lot, The infallible lot we are.

O Warwick woods are green, are green, But Warwick trees can fall: And Birmingham grew so big, so big, And Stratford stayed so small.

Till the hooter howled to the morning lark That sang to the morning star; And we all became, in freedom's name, The fortunate chaps we are.

_Chorus_

The fortunate chaps, felicitous chaps, The fairy-like chaps we are.

The people they left the land, the land, But they went on working hard; And the village green that had got mislaid Turned up in the squire's back-yard: But twenty men of us all got work On a bit of his motor car; And we all became, with the world's acclaim, The marvellous mugs we are:

_Chorus_

The marvellous mugs, miraculous mugs, The mystical mugs we are.

SONGS OF EDUCATION:

II. GEOGRAPHY

_Form 17955301, Sub-Section Z_

The earth is a place on which England is found, And you find it however you twirl the globe round; For the spots are all red and the rest is all grey, And that is the meaning of Empire Day.

Gibraltar's a rock that you see very plain, And attached to its base is the district of Spain.

And the island of Malta is marked further on, Where some natives were known as the Knights of St. John.

Then Cyprus, and east to the Suez Ca.n.a.l, That was conquered by Dizzy and Rothschild his pal With the Sword of the Lord in the old English way; And that is the meaning of Empire Day.

Our princ.i.p.al imports come far as Cape Horn; For necessities, cocoa; for luxuries, corn; Thus Brahmins are born for the rice-field, and thus, The G.o.ds made the Greeks to grow currants for us; Tobacco and petrol and Jazzing and Jews: The Jazzing will pa.s.s but the Jews they will stay; And that is the meaning of Empire Day.

Our princ.i.p.al exports, all labelled and packed, At the ends of the earth are delivered intact: Our soap or our salmon can travel in tins Between the two poles and as like as two pins; So that Lancashire merchants whenever they like Can water the beer of a man in Klondike Or poison the meat of a man in Bombay; And that is the meaning of Empire Day.

The day of St. George is a musty affair Which Russians and Greeks are permitted to share; The day of Trafalgar is Spanish in name And the Spaniards refuse to p.r.o.nounce it the same; But the Day of the Empire from Canada came With Morden and Borden and Beaverbrook's fame And saintly seraphical souls such as they: And that is the meaning of Empire Day.