Towards democracy

466 Towards Democracy

India, And Irish questions treated with derision.

O England, thou old hypocrite, thou sham, thou bully of weak nations whom thou wert called to aid, Thy day of ruin surely is near at hand,

An empty House to near the burden of the sorrows of ©

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Save for one thing—which scarcely may be hoped for— ~

Save that a heart of grace within thee rise And stay the greed of gold—which else must slay thee.

For now I see thee like a great old tree, A Mother of the forest,

Prone on the ground and hollow to the core, with

branches spread and stretched about the world. And truly these thy seedlings scattered round May spring and prosper, and even here and there One of thy great arms elbowed in the earth, Or severed from the trunk, may live again ; But Thou—thy tale of ancient glory is toldI fear thou canst but die.

And betier so perhaps ; for what is good shall tive. The brotherhood of nations and of men

Comes on apace. New dreams of youth bestir The ancient heart of the earth—fair dreams of love And equal freedom for all folk and races.

The day ts past for idle talk of Empire ;

And who would glory in dominating others—