When I happened upon this poem and passed it on to the
Trumpet, John saw its potential to remind us how closely related we Americans
are to our English cousins by history, language and culture. He also
recognized that it gave us an opportunity to salute Londoners under siege just
as they reached out to all Americans, perhaps especially to us New Yorkers, on
September 11th.
The current issue of the
New England Journal
of Medicine features an article on Victimhood and Resilience.
The occasion for addressing these issues is the July 7 suicide bombing in
London. The subject is how traumatized survivors of such disasters can best
be helped or allowed to heal. Surprisingly, the new thinking is that the
immediate provision of psychological counseling to the survivors of a disaster
does not necessarily accelerate or enhance their healing in the long run and
may in fact impede it. Survivors have shown themselves to be stronger, more
practical, resourceful and resilient than we are sometimes tempted to believe,
and it is suggested that we celebrate and encourage resilience and pride
rather than dwell on trauma and victimhood.
In describing how well—how defiantly and even
cheerfully—Londoners have picked up the pieces and carried on since the July 7
attacks, the authors quite naturally evoked the "Blitz spirit" that has been
legendary in the English-speaking world for half a century:
Before the outbreak of the
Second World War, politicians, military commentators, and emergency planners
believed that aerial bombing would provoke mass destruction, panic, and a
catastrophic collapse in morale. Yet these reactions did not occur. The Blitz
killed 40,000 Londoners, and although there were short periods of considerable
fear and disorganization, such a state was the exception, not the rule.
The poem itself is not about crisis and carnage,
coping and courage. It is just about a great city, beloved by its countrymen
and dear also to her prodigal children in the New World.
Florence contributed some wonderful images of London
and then Lee and Werner worked their production magic. It all goes together
and we hope you will enjoy the poem as much as we editors enjoyed sharing our
personal reactions to it with each other.
London from Southwark, painted
in about 1650, offers a final glimpse of the City before the Great Fire of
1666.
The City of London today - one of the
world's great financial centres.
"To the City of London"
by William Dunbar
(1456?-1513?)
London, thou art of townes A per se.
Soveraign of cities, semeliest in sight,
Of high renoun, riches, and royaltie;
Of lordis, barons, and many goodly knyght;
Of most delectable lusty ladies bright;
Of famous prelatis in habitis clericall;
Of merchauntis full of substaunce and
myght:
London, thou art the flour of Cities all.
Gladdith anon, thou lusty Troy Novaunt,
Citie that some tyme cleped was New Troy,
In all the erth, imperiall as thou stant,
Pryncesse of townes, of pleasure, and of
joy,
A richer restith under no Christen roy;
For manly power, with craftis naturall,
Fourmeth none fairer sith the flode of
Noy:
London, thou art the flour of Cities all.
Gemme of all joy, jasper of jocunditie,
Most myghty carbuncle of vertue and
valour;
Strong Troy in vigour and in strenuytie;
Of royall cities rose and geraflour;
Empresse of townes, exalt in honour;
In beawtie beryng the crone imperiall;
Swete paradise precelling in pleasure:
London, thow art the floure of Cities
all.
Above all ryvers thy Ryver hath renowne,
Whose beryall stremys, pleasaunt and
preclare,
Under thy lusty wallys renneth down,
Where many a swanne doth swymme with
wyngis fare;
Where many a barge doth saile, and row
with are,
Where many a ship doth rest with
toppe-royall.
O! towne of townes, patrone and
not-compare:
London, thou art the floure of Cities
all.
Upon thy lusty Brigge of pylers white
Been merchauntis full royall to behold;
Upon thy stretis goth many a semely
knyght
In velvet gownes and cheynes of fyne
gold.
By Julyus Cesar thy Tour founded of old
May be the hous of Mars victoryall,
Whos artillary with tonge may not be
told:
London, thou art the flour of Cities all.
Strong be thy wallis that about the
standis;
Wise be the people that within the
dwellis;
Fresh is thy ryver with his lusty
strandis;
Blith be thy chirches, wele sownyng be
thy bellis;
Riche be thy merchauntis in substaunce
that excellis;
Fair be thy wives, right lovesom, white
and small;
