I used to think their slender tops
Were close against the sky :

It was a childish ignorance,

But now 'tis little joy

To know I'm farther off from Heav'n
Than when I was a boy.

30

THE VICTORIAN PERIOD

THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY

1800-1859

THE BATTLE OF NASEBY

BY OBADIAH BIND-THEIR-KINGS-IN-CHAINS-AND-THEIR-NOBLESWITH-LINKS-OF-IRON, SERGEANT IN IRETON'S REGIMENT

OH! Wherefore come ye forth, in triumph from the North,
With your hands, and your feet, and your raiment all red?
And wherefore do your rout send forth a joyous shout?
And whence are the grapes of the wine-press that ye tread?

Oh evil was the root, and bitter was the fruit,
And crimson was the juice of the vintage that we trod;

For we trampled on the throng of the haughty and the strong,
Who sate in the high places, and slew the saints of God.

It was about the noon of a glorious day of June,
That we saw their banners dance, and their cuirasses shine;
And the Man of Blood was there, with his long essenced hair;
And Astley, and Sir Marmaduke, and Rupert of the Rhine.

Like a servant of the Lord, with his Bible and his sword,
The General rode along us to form us for the fight,

5

ΙΟ

When a murmuring sound broke out, and swelled into a shout, 15 Among the godless horsemen upon the tyrant's right.

And hark! like the roar of the billow on the shore,
The cry of battle rises along their charging line!

For God! for the Cause! for the Church, for the Laws !
For Charles, King of England, and Rupert of the Rhine!

20

The furious German comes, with his trumpets and his drums, His bravoes of Alsatia, and pages of Whitehall;

They are bursting on our flanks. Grasp your pikes, close your

ranks;

For Rupert never comes, but to conquer or to fall.

They are here! they rush on! We are broken! we are gone! 25
Our left is borne before them like stubble on the blast.

O Lord, put forth thy might! O Lord, defend the right!
Stand back to back, in God's name, and fight it to the last.

Stout Skippen hath a wound; the centre hath given ground : Hark! hark! - What means this trampling of horsemen in the rear?

30

What banner do I see, boys? 'Tis he, thank God, 'tis he, boys, Bear up another minute; Brave Oliver is here.

Their heads are stooping low, their pikes all in a row,
Like a whirlwind on the trees, like a deluge on the dykes,
Our cuirassiers have burst on the ranks of the Accurst,
And at a shock have scattered the forest of his pikes.

Fast, fast, the gallants ride, in some safe nook to hide
Their coward heads, predestined to rot on Temple Bar :
And he he turns, he flies: shame to those cruel eyes
That bore to look on torture, and dare not look on war.

Ho! comrades, scour the plain, and, ere ye strip the slain,
First give another stab to make the quest secure,

35

40

Then shake from sleeves and pockets their broad-pieces and lockets,

The tokens of the wanton, the plunder of the poor.

Fools! your doubtlets shone with gold, and your

and bold,

hearts were gay

When you kiss'd your lily hands to your lemans to-day;

45

And to-morrow shall the fox, from her chambers in the rocks, Lead forth her tawny cubs to howl above the prey.

Where be your tongues, that late mocked at heaven, and hell, and fate,

50

And the fingers that once were so busy with your blades,
Your perfumed satin clothes, your catches and your oaths?
Your stage-plays and your sonnets, your diamonds and your
spades?

Down, down, for ever down with the mitre and the crown,
With the Belial of the Court, and the Mammon of the Pope;
There is woe in Oxford halls; there is wail in Durham stalls: 55
The Jesuit smites his bosom: the Bishop rends his cope.

And she of the seven hills shall mourn her children's ills,
And tremble when she thinks on the edge of England's sword;
And the Kings of earth in fear shall shudder when they hear
What the hand of God hath wrought for the Houses and the
Word.

60

JOHN HENRY NEWMAN

1801-1890

LEAD KINDLY LIGHT

LEAD kindly light, amid th' encircling gloom,
Lead Thou me on ;

The night is dark, and I am far from home;
Lead Thou me on;

Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see
The distant scene; one step enough for me.

I was not ever thus, nor prayed that Thou
Shouldst lead me on;

5

I loved to choose and see my path; but now
Lead Thou me on!

I loved the garish day, and, spite of fears,

Pride ruled my will.

Remember not past years!

So long Thy Power hath blessed me, sure it still
Will lead me on

O'er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent, till

The night is gone,

And with the morn those angel faces smile

Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile.

ΙΟ

15

ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING

1806-1861

SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE

XXII

WHEN our two souls stand up erect and strong,
Face to face, silent, drawing nigh and nigher,
Until the lengthening wings break into fire
At either curvèd point, What bitter wrong
Can the earth do to us, that we should not long

5

Be here contented? Think. In mounting higher,

The angels would press on us, and aspire
To drop some golden orb of perfect song
Into our deep, dear silence.

Let us stay

Rather on earth, Belovèd, — where the unfit,

Contrarious moods of men recoil away

And isolate pure spirits, and permit
A place to stand and love in for a day,

With darkness and the death-hour rounding it.