We let them cage the Lion while the fire In his high heart burnt clear and unsubdued; We let them stir that frank and forward mood From greatness to the self-consuming ire, The fret and chafe that wait on service scorned, We left him, with bound arms, to mark the sword, Where Strength should have been guide, and Honour lord Left him to cry aloud, without support, Against the creeping things that eat away Our wooden walls, and boast as they betray, The base supporters of a baser Court, The crawling worms that in corruption breed, Under their stings and slime; and bleed he did Nor even so found gratitude, but came Back to his England, bankrupt, save of praise, To eat his heart, through weary wishful days, And shape his strength to bearing of his shame. Till, slow but sure, drew on a better time, And statesmen owned the check of public will; And, at the last, light pierced the shadow chill That fouled his honour with the taint of crime. And then they gave him back the Knightly spurs Justice had lingered on its road too long; To save our flag from shame, our decks from wrong. The infamy is theirs, whose ev.l feed A Belisarius, old and sad and poor. To our shame, not to his-so be Ived in Proofs of his innocence, and their shame. That had so wronged him; and, this i'te aze isa And wipe the last faint tarnish from his name At last his fame stands fair, and fall of pears His country with one voice had set it high No nobier heart e er knew the bitter 'ot We let them cage the Lion while the fire In his high heart burnt clear and unsubdued; We let them stir that frank and forward mood From greatness to the self-consuming ire, The fret and chafe that wait on service scorned, We left him, with bound arms, to mark the sword, Where Strength should have been guide, and Honour lord Left him to cry aloud, without support, Against the creeping things that eat away Our wooden walls, and boast as they betray, The base supporters of a baser Court, The crawling worms that in corruption breed, Under their stings and slime; and bleed he did Nor even so found gratitude, but came Back to his England, bankrupt, save of praise, To eat his heart, through weary wishful days, And shape his strength to bearing of his shame. Till, slow but sure, drew on a better time, And statesmen owned the check of public will; And, at the last, light pierced the shadow chill That fouled his honour with the taint of crime. And then they gave him back the Knightly spurs Justice had lingered on its road too long; To save our flag from shame, our decks from wrong. The infamy is theirs, whose evil deed. A Belisarius, old and sad and poor, To our shame, not to his-so he lived on, Proofs of his innocence, and their shame, That had so wronged him; and, this done, came death, And wipe the last faint tarnish from his name. At last his fame stands fair, and full of years His country with one voice had set it high; Ashes to ashes! Lay the hero down, No nobler heart e'er knew the bitter lot We let them cage the Lion while the fire In his high heart burnt clear and unsubdued; We let them stir that frank and forward mood From greatness to the self-consuming ire, The fret and chafe that wait on service scorned, We left him, with bound arms, to mark the sword, Where Strength should have been guide, and Honour lord Left him to cry aloud, without support, Against the creeping things that eat away Our wooden walls, and boast as they betray, The base supporters of a baser Court, The crawling worms that in corruption breed, Under their stings and slime; and bleed he did Nor even so found gratitude, but came Back to his England, bankrupt, save of praise, To eat his heart, through weary wishful days, And shape his strength to bearing of his shame. Till, slow but sure, drew on a better time, And statesmen owned the check of public will; And, at the last, light pierced the shadow chill That fouled his honour with the taint of crime. And then they gave him back the Knightly spurs Justice had lingered on its road too long; |