Poor man, sunk deeper than thy slime In blood and hate, in terror and crime, Thou who wert lifted on the wings Of thy desire, the king of kings, In promise beyond ken sublime: O thou man-soul, who mightest climb To heavenly happiness, whereof Thine easy path were Mirth and Love! _October, 1918._ ENGLAND TO INDIA _Christmas, 1918._ Beautiful is man’s home: how fair, Wrapt in her robe of azurous air, The Earth thro’ stress of ice and fire Came on the path of God’s desire, Redeeming Chaos, to compose Exquisite forms of lily and rose, With every creature a design Of loveliness or craft divine Searchable and unsearchable, And each insect a miracle! Truth is as Beauty unconfined: Various as Nature is man’s Mind: Each race and tribe is as a flower Set in God’s garden with its dower Of special instinct; and man’s grace Compact of all must all embrace. China and Ind, Hellas or France, Each hath its own inheritance; And each to Truth’s rich market brings Its bright divine imaginings, In rival tribute to surprise The world with native merchandise. Nor least in worth nor last in years Of artists, poets, saints and seers, England, in her far northern sea, Fashion’d the jewel of Liberty, Fetch’d from the shore of Palestine (Land of the Lily and mystic Vine). Where once in the everlasting dawn Christ’s Love-star flamed, that heavenly sign Whereto all nations shall be drawn, Unfabled Magi, and uplift Each to Love’s cradle his own gift. Thou who canst dream and understand, Dost thou not dream for thine own land This dream of Truth, and contemplate That happier world, Love’s free Estate? Say, didst thou dream, O Sister fair, How hand in hand we entered there? BRITANNIA VICTRIX Careless wast thou in thy pride, Queen of seas and countries wide, Glorying on thy peaceful throne:-- Can thy love thy sins atone? What shall dreams of glory serve, If thy sloth thy doom deserve, When the strong relentless foe Storm thy gates to lay thee low? Careless, ah! he saw thee leap Mighty from thy startled sleep, Heard afar thy challenge ring: ’Twas the world’s awakening. Welcome to thy children all Rallying to thee without call Oversea, the sportive sons From thy vast dominions! Stern in onset or defence, Terrible in their confidence. Dauntless wast thou, fair goddess, ’Neath the cloud of thy distress; Fierce and mirthful wast thou seen In thy toil and in thy teen; While the nations looked to thee, Spent in worldwide agony.