Textarchiv - Leonard Charles Van Noppen

Burn up the world

mrbot — Mon, 16 Jan 2017 21:42:13 +0000

Burn up the world, and yet the living spark
Which once was England would for ever shine
And be a star. It would be as a sign
Hung in the silent forehead of the dark,
A light for them who listen and cry "Hark!"
Hoping for Hope. And to the holy shrine
Of her dear name, by dying made divine,
Would come the pilgrim ages. Like an ark
Would float her memory upon the flood
Of Cosmic change. Great deeds would enter there:
Deeds of great daring, consecrate with blood,
Immortal fames and grandeurs, words sublime
That like strong eagles soared above despair,
And thoughts beyond the highest reach of Time.

Leonard Charles Van Noppen

1917

England

mrbot — Mon, 16 Jan 2017 21:42:13 +0000

England, the home of poetry; the hearth
Where the world's heart so often warmed its hands;
Whose soul none but her Shakespeare understands;
Whose singing is a silence round the earth;
Cradle of Law, where Freedom had its birth;
The grave of tyrants; winging her commands
Over the oceans; envy of all lands,
Jealous of none, yet worshipful of worth:

England, the acorn, whence to ages sprang
The oak of empire; eagle whose safe wings
Mother her brood of colonies; where rings
No chain of slave; O England, for the clang
And clash of battle, gird thy loins, and wage
War with the Dark for thy rich heritage.

Leonard Charles Van Noppen

1917