Classic and Contemporary Poetry
TO THE REFORMERS OF ENGLAND, by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: God bless ye, brothers! In the fight Last Line: God's blessing on the right! Subject(s): England; Reform And Reformers; English | ||||||||
GOD bless ye, brothers! in the fight Ye're waging now, ye cannot fail, For better is your sense of right Than king-craft's triple mail. Than tyrant's law, or bigot's ban, More mighty is your simplest word; The free heart of an honest man Than crosier or the sword. Go, let your blinded Church rehearse The lesson it has learned so well; It moves not with its prayer or curse The gates of heaven or hell. Let the State scaffold rise again; Did Freedom die when Russell died? Forget ye how the blood of Vane From earth's green bosom cried? The great hearts of your olden time Are beating with you, full and strong; All holy memories and sublime And glorious round ye throng. The bluff, bold men of Runnymede Are with ye still in times like these; The shades of England's mighty dead, Your cloud of witnesses! The truths ye urge are borne abroad By every wind and every tide; The voice of Nature and of God Speaks out upon your side. The weapons which your hands have found Are those which Heaven itself has wrought, Light, Truth, and Love; your battleground The free, broad field of Thought. No partial, selfish purpose breaks The simple beauty of your plan, Nor lie from throne or altar shakes Your steady faith in man. The languid pulse of England starts And bounds beneath your words of power, The beating of her million hearts Is with you at this hour! O ye who, with undoubting eyes, Through present cloud and gathering storm, Behold the span of Freedom's skies, And sunshine soft and warm; Press bravely onward! not in vain Your generous trust in human-kind; The good which bloodshed could not gain Your peaceful zeal shall find. Press on! the triumph shall be won Of common rights and equal laws, The glorious dream of Harrington, And Sidney's good old cause, Blessing the cotter and the crown, Sweetening worn labor's bitter cup; And, plucking not the highest down, Lifting the lowest up. Press on! and we who may not share The toil or glory of your fight May ask, at least, in earnest prayer, God's blessing on the right! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NINETEEN FORTY by NORMAN DUBIE GHOSTS IN ENGLAND by ROBINSON JEFFERS STAYING UP FOR ENGLAND by LIAM RECTOR STONE AND FLOWER by KENNETH REXROTH THE HANGED MAN by KENNETH REXROTH ENGLISH TRAIN COMPARTMENT by JOHN UPDIKE AMY WENTWORTH; FOR WILLIAM BRADFORD by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER |
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