NON ANGLI SED ANGELI

11th November....Remembrance Day.
2007....the year we remember the abolition of slavery 200 years ago.

Geoffrey Studdert-Kennedy was a First World War Chaplain. He wrote many poems around 90 years ago in and around the trenches.
Below is an excerpt from Studdert-Kennedy's long poem NON ANGLI SED ANGELI, recalling the encounter between Pope Gregory and ‘Angles’ (English slaves) when he famously stated ‘not Angles but Angels’.
In editing it, I have found that Studdert-Kennedy, though long dead, directly challenges many aspects of our society today (even abortion). PC he is not. Some might say he glorifies war but does he?.... and maybe today we glorify peacetime when in fact evil abounds amongst us, and slavery takes new forms.
comments welcomed

He saw it with the eyes of Christ, and spoke
in all unconscious prophecy, the doom
of slavery, which these same blue-eyed boys
would one day die to banish from the world.
And I have seen them die in these last days:
Yes, I have seen their bright blue eyes grow dim
with agony, yet never lose their smile,
The dauntless smile of Angles that reveals
their angel souls, and crowns them Kings by right,
the destined saviours of the world from sin,
and from the curse of tyranny which kills
the souls of men, and turns them into slaves.
The day of tyrant kings is dead, and thrones
shall nevermore dethrone men's souls.
But now a dull inhuman monster takes their place.
The minotaur of Mammon tears the wings
from new-fledged souls and flings them bleeding down
to dogs of greed and lust.
To him they are dead hands, machines that make machines,
and grind out gold to swell the coffers of the rich.
So Satan takes new forms, and when he finds
the sword is weak, too weak to win brave hearts
as slaves, creeps snakelike in, in time of Peace,
to fetter free-born men with golden chains
and lead them helpless captives down to hell.
O England, when this wave of war is spent,
and rolls back baffled from thy rocky breast,
wilt thou be strong to slay the Minotaur,
and strangle that great golden snake that crept
in time of Peace about thy home to kill,
with venom of low greed and lust of wealth,
the soul of Freedom and the heart of Love?
Shall wealth still grow, and woe increase to breed
in filthy slums the slaves of poverty?
Shall senseless pride and vulgar luxury
by gilding over evil make it good?
Shall souls be only hands again, dead hands,
That toil for wealth that makes none rich save those who need it not?
Shall men still seek in drink a refuge from the burden of their strife,
And from that dull monotony of grey
that shadows half our cities from the sun?
Shall women still be bought and sold, like dogs
upon the streets, because the wage they earn
by work will not keep bodies for their souls?
Shall children come to birth, too weak to live,
Not even hands of strength, but feeble hands,
that clutch at life and die--just born to die
and cry--cry shame upon the grimy world
that murdered them?
If this be what must come,
then blessed are the dead who die in war,
Their bodies shattered, but their souls untouched
by slime of sin, unpoisoned by the snake,
For war is kinder than a Godless peace.
O England, let this message from the past
ring down the ages like a trumpet call,
Not Angles these but Angels, souls not slaves,
let not thy wealth be counted in base coin
but in chaste mothers, comely maids, strong men
with kindly eyes, in sound of children's play,
and in those happy aged ones who stand
between the seas of life, and, looking back
and forwards, vow that human life is good.
So must our land be reckoned rich or poor.

LINKS:

Studdert-Kennedy's poems:
http://www.mun.ca/rels/restmov/texts/dasc/TUB.HTM

modern forms of slavery:
http://www.bbc.co.uk/religion/ethics/slavery/modern/modern_print.html
http://paulfield.com/cargo/
http://www.stopthetraffik.org/default.aspx