Classic and Contemporary Poetry
BOTHWELL: JOHN KNOX'S INDICTMENT OF THE QUEEN, by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: God ye hear not, how shall ye hear me? Last Line: Such things as speak what I lack words to say. Subject(s): Knox, John (1513-1572) | ||||||||
GOD ye hear not, how shall ye hear me? Or if your eyes be seal'd to know not her, If she be fit to live or no, can I With words unseal them? None so young of you But hath long life enough to understand And reason to record what he hath seen Of hers and of God's dealings mutually Since she came in. Then was her spirit made soft, Her words as oil, and with her amorous face She caught men's eyes to turn them where she would, And with the strong sound of her name of queen Made their necks bend; that even of God's own men There were that bade refuse her not her will, Deny not her, fair woman and great queen, Her natural freedom born, to give God praise What way she would, and pray what prayers; though these Be as they were, to God abominable And venomous to men's souls. So came there back The cursed thing cast forth of us, and so Out of her fair face and imperious eyes Lighten'd the light whereby men walk in hell. And I that sole stood out and bade not let The lightning of this curse come down on us And fly with feet as fire on all winds blown To burn men's eyes out that beheld God's face, That being long blind but now gat sight, and saw And prais'd him seeing -- I that then spake and said, Ten thousand men here landed of our foes Were not so fearful to me on her side As one mass said in Scotland -- that withstood The man to his face I lov'd, her father's son, Then master'd by the pity of her, and made Through that good mind not good -- who then but I Was tax'd of wrongful will, and for hard heart Miscall'd of men? And now, sirs, if her prayer Were just and reasonable, and unjust I That bade shut ears against it -- if the mass Hath brought forth innocent fruit, and in this land Wherein she came to stablish it again Hath stablish'd peace with honor -- if in her It hath been found no seed of shame, and she That lov'd and serv'd it seem now in men's sight No hateful thing nor fearful -- if she stand Such a queen proven as should prove honorable The rule of women, and in her that thing Be shown forth good that was call'd evil of me, Blest and not curst -- then have I sinn'd, and they That would have cross'd me would have cross'd not God: Whereof now judge ye. Hath she brought with her Peace, or a sword? and since her incoming Hath the land sat in quiet, and the men Seen rest but for one year? or came not in Behind her feet, right at her back, and shone Above her crown'd head as a fierier crown, Death, and about her as a raiment wrapt Ruin? and where her foot was ever turn'd Or her right hand was pointed, hath there fallen No fire, no cry burst forth of war, no sound As of a blast blown of an host of men For summons of destruction? Hath God shown For sign she had found grace in his sight, and we For her sake favor, while she hath reign'd on us, One hour of good, one week of rest, one day? Or hath he sent not for an opposite sign Dissensions, wars, rumors of wars, and change, Flight and return of men, terror with power, Triumph with trembling? . . . . . . . . . God is not mock'd; and ye shall surely know What men were these, and what man he that spake The things I speak now prophesying, and said That if ye spare to shed her blood for shame, For fear or pity of her great name or face, God shall require of you the innocent blood Shed for her fair face' sake, and from your hands Wring the price forth of her bloodguiltiness. Nay, for ye know it, nor have I need again To bring it in your mind if God ere now Have borne me witness; in that dreary day When men's hearts fail'd them for pure grief and fear To see the tyranny that was, and rule Of this queen's mother, where was no light left But of the fires wherein his servants died, I bade those lords that clave in heart to God And were perplex'd with trembling and with tears Lift up their hearts, and fear not; and they heard What some now hear no more, the word I spake Who have been with them, as their own souls know, In their most extreme danger; Cowper Moor, Saint Johnston, and the Crags of Edinburgh, Are recent in my heart; yea, let these know, That dark and dolorous night wherein all they With shame and fear were driven forth of this town Is yet within my mind; and God forbid That ever I forget it. What, I say, Was then my exhortation, and what word Of all God ever promis'd by my mouth Is fallen in vain, they live to testify Of whom not one that then was doom'd to death Is perish'd in that danger; and their foes, How many of these hath God before their eyes Plague-stricken with destruction! lo the thanks They render him, now to betray his cause Put in their hands to stablish; even that God's That kept them all the darkness through to see Light, and the way that some now see no more, But are gone after light of the fen's fire And walk askant in slippery ways; but ye Know if God's hand have ever when I spake Writ liar upon me, or with adverse proof Turn'd my free speech to shame; for in my lips He put a word, and knowledge in my heart, When I was fast bound of his enemies' hands An oarsman on their galleys, and beheld From off the sea whereon I sat in chains The walls wherein I knew that I there bound Should one day witness of him; and this pledge Hath God redeem'd not? Nay then, in God's name, If that false word fell unfulfill'd of mine, Heed ye not now nor hear me when I say That for this woman's sake shall God cut off The hand that spares her as the hand that shields, And make their memory who take part with her As theirs who stood for Baal against the Lord With Ahab's daughter; for her reign and end Shall be like Athaliah's, as her birth Was from the womb of Jezebel, that slew The prophets, and made foul with blood and fire The same land's face that now her seed makes foul With whoredoms and with witchcrafts; yet they say Peace, where is no peace, while the adulterous blood Feeds yet with life and sin the murderous heart That hath brought forth a wonder to the world And to all time a terror; and this blood The hands are clean that shed, and they that spare In God's just sight spotted as foul as Cain's. If then this guilt shall cleave to you or no, And to your children's children, for her sake, Choose ye; for God needs no man that is loth To serve him, and no word but his own work To bind and loose their hearts who hear and see Such things as speak what I lack words to say. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A BALLAD OF DEATH by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE A BALLAD OF LIFE by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE A CAMEO by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE A CHRISTMAS CAROL by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE A FORSAKEN GARDEN by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE A LEAVE-TAKING by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE A MATCH by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE A RHYME by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE ANACTORIA by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE AVE ATQUE VALE; IN MEMORY OF CHARLES BAUDELAIRE by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE |
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