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Robert Laurence Binyon - The Belfry Of Bruges
Work rating: Low

Keen comes the dizzy air
 In one tumultuous breath.
 The tower to heaven lies bare;
 Dumb stir the streets beneath.

 Immeasurable sky
 Domes upward from the dim
 Round land, the astonished eye
 Supposes the world`s rim.

 And through the sea of space
 Winds drive the furious cloud
 Silent in endless race;
 And the tower rocks aloud.

 Mine eye now wanders wide,
 My thought now quickens keen.
 O cities, far descried,
 What ravage have you seen

 Of an enkindled world?
 Homes blazing and hearths bare;
 Of hosts tyrannic hurled
 On pale ranks of despair,

 Who fed with warm proud blood
 The cause unquenchable,
 For which your heroes stood,
 For which our Sidney fell;

 Sidney, whose starry fame,
 Mirrored in noble song,
 Shines, all our sloth to shame,
 And arms us against wrong;

 Bright star, that seems to burn
 Over yon English shore,
 Whither my feet return,
 And my thoughts run before;

 Run with this rumour brought
 By the wild wind`s alarms,
 Dark sounds with battle fraught,
 Menace of distant arms.

 O menace harsh, but vain!
 For what can peril do
 But search our souls again
 To sift and find the true?

 Prove if the sap of old
 Shoots yet from the old seed,
 If faith be still unsold,
 If truth be truth indeed?

 Welcome the blast that shakes
 The wall wherein we have lain
 Slumbering, our heart awakes
 And rends the prison chain.

 Turn we from prosperous toys
 And the dull name of ease;
 Rather than tarnished joys
 Face we the angry seas!

 Or, if old age infirm
 Be in our veins congealed,
 Bow we to Time, our term
 Fulfilled, and proudly yield.

 Not each to each we are made,
 Not each to each we fall,
 But every true part played
 Quickens the heart of all

 That feeds and moves and fires
 The many--peopled lands,
 And in our languor tires
 But in our strength expands.

 For forward--gazing eyes
 Fate shall no terror keep.
 She in our own breast lies:
 Now let her wake from sleep!
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