Verses 1889-1896 Part 16

"Strayed amid lonely islets, mazed amid outer keys, I waked the palms to laughter -- I tossed the scud in the breeze -- Never was isle so little, never was sea so lone, But over the scud and the palm-trees an English flag was flown.

"I have wrenched it free from the halliard to hang for a wisp on the Horn; I have chased it north to the Lizard -- ribboned and rolled and torn; I have spread its fold o'er the dying, adrift in a hopeless sea; I have hurled it swift on the slaver, and seen the slave set free.

"My basking sunfish know it, and wheeling albatross, Where the lone wave fills with fire beneath the Southern Cross.

What is the Flag of England? Ye have but my reefs to dare, Ye have but my seas to furrow. Go forth, for it is there!"

The East Wind roared: -- "From the Kuriles, the Bitter Seas, I come, And me men call the Home-Wind, for I bring the English home.

Look -- look well to your shipping! By the breath of my mad typhoon I swept your close-packed Praya and beached your best at Kowloon!

"The reeling junks behind me and the racing seas before, I raped your richest roadstead -- I plundered Singapore!

I set my hand on the Hoogli; as a hooded snake she rose, And I flung your stoutest steamers to roost with the startled crows.

"Never the lotus closes, never the wild-fowl wake, But a soul goes out on the East Wind that died for England's sake -- Man or woman or suckling, mother or bride or maid -- Because on the bones of the English the English Flag is stayed.

"The desert-dust hath dimmed it, the flying wild-a.s.s knows, The scared white leopard winds it across the taintless snows.

What is the Flag of England? Ye have but my sun to dare, Ye have but my sands to travel. Go forth, for it is there!"

The West Wind called: -- "In squadrons the thoughtless galleons fly That bear the wheat and cattle lest street-bred people die.

They make my might their porter, they make my house their path, Till I loose my neck from their rudder and whelm them all in my wrath.

"I draw the gliding fog-bank as a snake is drawn from the hole, They bellow one to the other, the frighted ship-bells toll, For day is a drifting terror till I raise the shroud with my breath, And they see strange bows above them and the two go locked to death.

"But whether in calm or wrack-wreath, whether by dark or day, I heave them whole to the conger or rip their plates away, First of the scattered legions, under a shrieking sky, Dipping between the rollers, the English Flag goes by.

"The dead dumb fog hath wrapped it -- the frozen dews have kissed -- The naked stars have seen it, a fellow-star in the mist.

What is the Flag of England? Ye have but my breath to dare, Ye have but my waves to conquer. Go forth, for it is there!"

"CLEARED"

(In Memory of a Commission)

Help for a patriot distressed, a spotless spirit hurt, Help for an honourable clan sore trampled in the dirt!

From Queenstown Bay to Donegal, O listen to my song, The honourable gentlemen have suffered grievous wrong.

Their n.o.ble names were mentioned -- O the burning black disgrace! -- By a brutal Saxon paper in an Irish shooting-case; They sat upon it for a year, then steeled their heart to brave it, And "coruscating innocence" the learned Judges gave it.

Bear witness, Heaven, of that grim crime beneath the surgeon's knife, The honourable gentlemen deplored the loss of life!

Bear witness of those chanting choirs that burk and shirk and sn.i.g.g.e.r, No man laid hand upon the knife or finger to the trigger!

Cleared in the face of all mankind beneath the winking skies, Like ph]oenixes from Ph]oenix Park (and what lay there) they rise!

Go shout it to the emerald seas -- give word to Erin now, Her honourable gentlemen are cleared -- and this is how: --

They only paid the Moonlighter his cattle-hocking price, They only helped the murderer with counsel's best advice, But -- sure it keeps their honour white -- the learned Court believes They never gave a piece of plate to murderers and thieves.

They never told the ramping crowd to card a woman's hide, They never marked a man for death -- what fault of theirs he died? -- They only said "intimidate", and talked and went away -- By G.o.d, the boys that did the work were braver men than they!

Their sin it was that fed the fire -- small blame to them that heard -- The "bhoys" get drunk on rhetoric, and madden at a word -- They knew whom they were talking at, if they were Irish too, The gentlemen that lied in Court, they knew, and well they knew.

They only took the Judas-gold from Fenians out of jail, They only fawned for dollars on the blood-dyed Clanna-Gael.

If black is black or white is white, in black and white it's down, They're only traitors to the Queen and rebels to the Crown.

"Cleared", honourable gentlemen! Be thankful it's no more: -- The widow's curse is on your house, the dead are at your door.

On you the shame of open shame, on you from North to South The hand of every honest man flat-heeled across your mouth.

"Less black than we were painted"? -- Faith, no word of black was said; The lightest touch was human blood, and that, you know, runs red.

It's sticking to your fist to-day for all your sneer and scoff, And by the Judge's well-weighed word you cannot wipe it off.

Hold up those hands of innocence -- go, scare your sheep together, The blundering, tripping tups that bleat behind the old bell-wether; And if they snuff the taint and break to find another pen, Tell them it's tar that glistens so, and daub them yours again!

"The charge is old"? -- As old as Cain -- as fresh as yesterday; Old as the Ten Commandments -- have ye talked those laws away?

If words are words, or death is death, or powder sends the ball, You spoke the words that sped the shot -- the curse be on you all.

"Our friends believe"? -- Of course they do -- as sheltered women may; But have they seen the shrieking soul ripped from the quivering clay?

They! -- If their own front door is shut, they'll swear the whole world's warm; What do they know of dread of death or hanging fear of harm?

The secret half a county keeps, the whisper in the lane, The shriek that tells the shot went home behind the broken pane, The dry blood crisping in the sun that scares the honest bees, And shows the "bhoys" have heard your talk -- what do they know of these?

But you -- you know -- ay, ten times more; the secrets of the dead, Black terror on the country-side by word and whisper bred, The mangled stallion's scream at night, the tail-cropped heifer's low.

Who set the whisper going first? You know, and well you know!

My soul! I'd sooner lie in jail for murder plain and straight, Pure crime I'd done with my own hand for money, l.u.s.t, or hate, Than take a seat in Parliament by fellow-felons cheered, While one of those "not provens" proved me cleared as you are cleared.

Cleared -- you that "lost" the League accounts -- go, guard our honour still, Go, help to make our country's laws that broke G.o.d's law at will -- One hand stuck out behind the back, to signal "strike again"; The other on your dress-shirt-front to show your heart is clane.

If black is black or white is white, in black and white it's down, You're only traitors to the Queen and rebels to the Crown.

If print is print or words are words, the learned Court perpends: -- We are not ruled by murderers, but only -- by their friends.

AN IMPERIAL RESCRIPT

Now this is the tale of the Council the German Kaiser decreed, To ease the strong of their burden, to help the weak in their need, He sent a word to the peoples, who struggle, and pant, and sweat, That the straw might be counted fairly and the tally of bricks be set.

The Lords of Their Hands a.s.sembled; from the East and the West they drew -- Baltimore, Lille, and Essen, Brummagem, Clyde, and Crewe.

And some were black from the furnace, and some were brown from the soil, And some were blue from the dye-vat; but all were wearied of toil.

And the young King said: -- "I have found it, the road to the rest ye seek: The strong shall wait for the weary, the hale shall halt for the weak; With the even tramp of an army where no man breaks from the line, Ye shall march to peace and plenty in the bond of brotherhood -- sign!"

The paper lay on the table, the strong heads bowed thereby, And a wail went up from the peoples: -- "Ay, sign -- give rest, for we die!"

A hand was stretched to the goose-quill, a fist was cramped to scrawl, When -- the laugh of a blue-eyed maiden ran clear through the council-hall.

And each one heard Her laughing as each one saw Her plain -- Saidie, Mimi, or Olga, Gretchen, or Mary Jane.