Elizabeth Barrett Browning
A Curse for a Nation: The Curse
I.

Because ye have broken your own chain
       &nbspWith the strain
Of brave men climbing a Nation’s height,
Yet thence bear down with brand and thong
On souls of others,—for this wrong
       &nbspThis is the curse. Write.


Because yourselves are standing straight
       &nbspIn the state
Of Freedom’s foremost acolyte,
Yet keep calm footing all the time
On writhing bond-slaves,—for this crime
       &nbspThis is the curse. Write.


Because ye prosper in God’s name,
       &nbspWith a claim
To honour in the old world’s sight,
Yet do the fiend’s work perfectly
In strangling martyrs,—for this lie
       &nbspThis is the curse. Write.


II.

Ye shall watch while kings conspire
Round the people’s smouldering fire,
       &nbspAnd, warm for your part,
Shall never dare—O shame!
To utter the thought into flame
       &nbspWhich burns at your heart.
       &nbsp       &nbspThis is the curse. Write.


Ye shall watch while nations strive
With the bloodhounds, die or survive,
       &nbspDrop faint from their jaws,
Or throttle them backward to death;
And only under your breath
       &nbspShall favour the cause.
       &nbsp       &nbspThis is the curse. Write.


Ye shall watch while strong men draw
The nets of feudal law
       &nbspTo strangle the weak;
And, counting the sin for a sin,
Your soul shall be sadder within
       &nbspThan the word ye shall speak.
       &nbsp       &nbspThis is the curse. Write.


When good men are praying erect
That Christ may avenge his elect
       &nbspAnd deliver the earth,
The prayer in your ears, said low,
Shall sound like the tramp of a foe
       &nbspThat’s driving you forth.
       &nbsp       &nbspThis is the curse. Write.


When wise men give you their praise,
They shall pause in the heat of the phrase,
       &nbspAs if carried too far.
When ye boast your own charters kept true
Ye shall blush; for the thing which ye do
       &nbspDerides what ye are.
       &nbsp       &nbspThis is the curse. Write.


When fools cast taunts at your gate,
Your scorn ye shall somewhat abate
       &nbspAs ye look o’er the wall;
For your conscience, tradition, and name
Explode with a deadlier blame
       &nbspThan the worst of them all.
       &nbsp       &nbspThis is the curse. Write.

Go, wherever ill deeds shall be done,
Go, plant your flag in the sun
       &nbspBeside the ill-doers!
And recoil from clenching the curse
Of God’s witnessing Universe
       &nbspWith a curse of yours.
       &nbsp       &nbspThis is the curse. Write.