DOI issue:
February 2, 1856
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16617#0052
44 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [February 2, 1856.
A DISTRESSED AGRICULTURIST.
Landlord. " Well, Ma. Springwheat, according to the Papers, there seems to be a Probability of a Cessation of
Hostilities."
Tenant {who strongly approves of War prices). "Goodness Gracious! Why you don't mean to say that there's ant
DANGER OP PEACE!"
PEACE.
Blind and bleeding from the melee, from the whirl of stroke and thrust,
la the lists of the Crimea rest the knights athirst—adust;
See Sir Winter, that grim warder, down his icy truncheon fling
'Twixt the warriors, taking order for a truce until the spring.
- Then, when emerald blade and blossom clothe with life the naked plain.
Hand on throat, and blade to bosom, up, to Death's work again !
We at home our task are urging without rest for head or hand ;
Wre are hammering, casting, forging, pointing bayonet and brand ;
Through the land war-toil's fierce clamours, from morn till even, swell,
3n our dockyards ring the hammers, on our quays rise shot and shell;
Ready hands in ample purses, ready lives to feed the War—
Bended brows, and mutter'd curses, boding mischief to the Czar !
We are free : our moods are many : but for this our wills are one ;
Rich man'spound,and poor man's pinny go,ungrudged, till this be done—
Till the Muscovite be stricken, stricken fairly to his knee,
England's peaceful pulse shall quicken with war-throb from sea to sea.
As in days when our forefathers bore the bill and bent the bow,
All her might old England gathers, like a flood, against the foe.
Bat across those Baltic waters, if our eye could pierce the night,
Wherewith Russia shrouds her Tartars, it would see another sight:
Hopeless Future, cheerless Present, Past of mighty memories bare,
Mulcted noble, fetter'd peasant, thin-sown town and hamlet rare;
'Mid a race of slaves, one Tyrant rearing up an anxious face,
With serf-soldiers all environ'd, or serf-courtiers more base.
Men are cheap: their lord is lavish of the life-blood of his swarms :
Brains are blank, and hearts are slavish, but he wields a million arms.
Lash them onwards—thick and thicker, to the insatiate jaws of war,
With their dull souis fired by Iiquors to the cry of " Cross and Czar."
Till in sunny Asian regions, and round Europe's land-lock'd sea,
Brooding battle, Russia's legions face the legions of the Free.
Who is this that calm and clement 'twixt the hosts by sea and land,
Moves in shining angel-raiment, with a green bough in her hand ?
Smooth before her sinks the ocean, bright behind her breaks the cloud :
To such majesty of motion knees should bend and heads be bow'd.
Russ points sink at her entreating, at her voice pause Russian drums,
But from English lips no greeting or a doubtful greeting comes.
" I am Peace : respect my mission : drop your weapons, at my word:
Why, with looks of cold suspicion, lower, not sheathe the sword ? "
" Peace we know, and Peace we treasure : love her calm brow, olive-
wreath'd:
But these swords not drawn for pleasure, may not be at pleasure
shcath'd.
Well we know the foe we fight with, more we fear his fraud than
force;
Swords we may hold the right with, but 'gainst goosequilk what
resource ?
" Peace for us is but forsaking strenuous war for strenuous work:
Peace for him is time for breaking faith of treaties with the Turk.
Peace for us is_wealth's outpouring on all things that peaceful are,-
Peace for him is secret storing of the means for treacherous War.
Peace for us will be dictated by those whose word is sooth :
Peace for him negotiated by those who live untruth.
" Then what wonder, thus believing, if thine advent find us cold ?
Loath were we, and sorely grieving to take up the arms we hold.
But once taken, woe be to us, if like fools that hold we loose;
To let Russia enmew us in her diplomatic noose.
Try your pens : but if the tangle mock unravelling by words,
That no time be spent in wrangle, to the knot, we'll take our swords.'"
I
A DISTRESSED AGRICULTURIST.
Landlord. " Well, Ma. Springwheat, according to the Papers, there seems to be a Probability of a Cessation of
Hostilities."
Tenant {who strongly approves of War prices). "Goodness Gracious! Why you don't mean to say that there's ant
DANGER OP PEACE!"
PEACE.
Blind and bleeding from the melee, from the whirl of stroke and thrust,
la the lists of the Crimea rest the knights athirst—adust;
See Sir Winter, that grim warder, down his icy truncheon fling
'Twixt the warriors, taking order for a truce until the spring.
- Then, when emerald blade and blossom clothe with life the naked plain.
Hand on throat, and blade to bosom, up, to Death's work again !
We at home our task are urging without rest for head or hand ;
Wre are hammering, casting, forging, pointing bayonet and brand ;
Through the land war-toil's fierce clamours, from morn till even, swell,
3n our dockyards ring the hammers, on our quays rise shot and shell;
Ready hands in ample purses, ready lives to feed the War—
Bended brows, and mutter'd curses, boding mischief to the Czar !
We are free : our moods are many : but for this our wills are one ;
Rich man'spound,and poor man's pinny go,ungrudged, till this be done—
Till the Muscovite be stricken, stricken fairly to his knee,
England's peaceful pulse shall quicken with war-throb from sea to sea.
As in days when our forefathers bore the bill and bent the bow,
All her might old England gathers, like a flood, against the foe.
Bat across those Baltic waters, if our eye could pierce the night,
Wherewith Russia shrouds her Tartars, it would see another sight:
Hopeless Future, cheerless Present, Past of mighty memories bare,
Mulcted noble, fetter'd peasant, thin-sown town and hamlet rare;
'Mid a race of slaves, one Tyrant rearing up an anxious face,
With serf-soldiers all environ'd, or serf-courtiers more base.
Men are cheap: their lord is lavish of the life-blood of his swarms :
Brains are blank, and hearts are slavish, but he wields a million arms.
Lash them onwards—thick and thicker, to the insatiate jaws of war,
With their dull souis fired by Iiquors to the cry of " Cross and Czar."
Till in sunny Asian regions, and round Europe's land-lock'd sea,
Brooding battle, Russia's legions face the legions of the Free.
Who is this that calm and clement 'twixt the hosts by sea and land,
Moves in shining angel-raiment, with a green bough in her hand ?
Smooth before her sinks the ocean, bright behind her breaks the cloud :
To such majesty of motion knees should bend and heads be bow'd.
Russ points sink at her entreating, at her voice pause Russian drums,
But from English lips no greeting or a doubtful greeting comes.
" I am Peace : respect my mission : drop your weapons, at my word:
Why, with looks of cold suspicion, lower, not sheathe the sword ? "
" Peace we know, and Peace we treasure : love her calm brow, olive-
wreath'd:
But these swords not drawn for pleasure, may not be at pleasure
shcath'd.
Well we know the foe we fight with, more we fear his fraud than
force;
Swords we may hold the right with, but 'gainst goosequilk what
resource ?
" Peace for us is but forsaking strenuous war for strenuous work:
Peace for him is time for breaking faith of treaties with the Turk.
Peace for us is_wealth's outpouring on all things that peaceful are,-
Peace for him is secret storing of the means for treacherous War.
Peace for us will be dictated by those whose word is sooth :
Peace for him negotiated by those who live untruth.
" Then what wonder, thus believing, if thine advent find us cold ?
Loath were we, and sorely grieving to take up the arms we hold.
But once taken, woe be to us, if like fools that hold we loose;
To let Russia enmew us in her diplomatic noose.
Try your pens : but if the tangle mock unravelling by words,
That no time be spent in wrangle, to the knot, we'll take our swords.'"
I