Yorskhire Poems by Thomas Jefferson Monkman, part 13


LYRICS by Thomas Jefferson Monkman, 1885:


Our Father who art in Heaven,
    All hallowed be Thy name,
Thy Kingdom come, Almighty God,
    We glorify thy fame.

Thy will be done in Heaven above,
    So be it here on earth ;
We worship at Thy shrine of love
    Where mercy has its birth.

Give unto us our daily bread,
    Our trespasses forgive,
Teach us our enemies to spare,
    A holier life to live.

Into temptation lead us not,
    From evil keep us free,
For Thine this glorious Kingdom is
    Of mountain, vale and sea.

Thine is the power, the glory too,
    Belongs likewise to Thee,
Omniscient Master, God above,
    Keep us from evil free.



With your permission, sirs, I'll say a word or two
About four men, four of the noble Arctic crew ;
At Britain's call went forth these gallant men
Towards the Northern Pole, amidst a nation's cheers,
A nation's inspiration, and a nation's fears
That England should not view her warriors back again ;
Away, away, due North ! across the swirling foam !
Proud hopes ! brave hearts ambition spurred to roam
Away, across Atlantic's mighty deep and rolling tide,
Alert and consort bore Britannia's pluck and pride ;
They bore these heroes to an ice-girt bourn,
To Northern solitudes, where desolation stern
Its crest upreared 'gainst pluck and science each ;
Four hundred miles and yet the Pole to reach !
'Twas here the explorers found a frozen grave-
May on their tomb be writ, " Here lies old England's brave " ;
And He, who one day shall us all command,
Succour these seamen in His Heavenly strand.


Bonnie is the wild rose
    On its thorny tree,
Bonnie is the clover
    That lures the roving bee ;
Bonnie are the cornfields
    Smiling on the lea,
But they're not half as bonnie
    As bonnie Mary Lee.

Bonnie is the primrose
    On the grassy lea,
Bonnie are the violets,
    Modest, wild, and free ;
Bonnie are the merry birds
    Singing on the tree,
But they're not half as bonnie
    As bonnie Mary Lee.

Bonnie is this merry child,
    Dancing o'er the lea,
Favourite little beauty,
    Careless, gay, and free ;
Prettier than a fairy,
    Lovlier far is she,
Without a single rival
    Is bonnie Mary Lee.


Time-honour'd pile high o'er Hull's busy flood,
        Erat in thy precincts grew a giant mind,
        The benefactor, friend of human kind.
Of late within thy corridors I stood,
        And heard the sounds of traffic in the mart,
        Wherein our merchant princes play a part)
Their aim, renown, by force of golden dross,-
Unstable fame, not thine, that vanishes with loss ;
        Nor Rothschild's gold, nor Westminster's untold,
Could shed such glorious halo round thy name,
And link thee with a firm enduring fame
        As Wilberforce, the noble, true, and bold,
Who dwelt within thine ancient walls,
And won his world-famed triumphs in St. Stephen's halls.


A small isle reposes amid the wild ocean
Whose prowess for ever shall waken emotion ;
The bright star of freedom shone first on its strand,
A beacon to light the oppressed to her land-
A land that is famous, and ever shall be
As the home of the brave and the isle of the free.

Encircled by waters, this gem of the wave
Is the birthplace of beauty and seat of the brave ;
Tho' her lance is now couched and her warriors at rest,
She is watchful to succour and aid the oppress'd ;
For this bright little spot in the midst of the sea
Is the home of the brave and the isle of the free.

Then Albion, loved Albion, long may'st thou be
Honour'd by land and respected by sea ;
May the tyrant still tremble throughout the wide world,
When he learns that thy standard of war is unfurl'd,
And that bold hearts are beating amid the wild sea,
In the home of the brave and the isle of the free.

Poems by Thomas Jefferson Monkman (1885)
Scanned by Graham Metcalf ©2003
OCRd and checked by Colin Hinson ©2003