idag har den mest internetapties and retraitement son THE UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS LIBRARY 821 B83472 . a Return this book on or before the Latest Date stamped below. A charge is made on all overdue books. U. of I. Library MAY 22 1939 ovoj MAY 14.1992 MAY 15 1982 2 MAY - 2160 JUL 18/1981 NL 22 2001 MAX is the 網 ​FEB 0 1 1983 14685-S IN QUEST OF THE HOLY GRAIL I N IN QUEST Ο F Τ Η Ε HOLY GRAIL A HERMIT’S WAR LYRICS SELECTED FROM HIS DIARY BY CHARLES BRUMM REVISED EDITION LONDON: C. W. DANIEL, LTD. Graham House, Tudor Street, E.C. 4 1921 “ Have Love. Not Love for one alone But Man as Man thy Brother call, And scatter like the circling sun Thy charities on all." SCHILLER. 821 B83 492 20 Sept zy Dile CONTENTS PAGE 9 IO 13 18 20 22 24 26 . PROLOGUE THE ROCK OF CASHEL OZYMANDIAS WHAT SEE WE NOW? THAT'S MY MOTTO, FRIENDS THE LAW DIVINE . LAND OF MY CHOICE OUR HYMN. BILL SMITH DEN LEEUW VAN VLAANDEREN--1914 PRO PATRIA. LES MARAUDEURS DANDY DAN HARVESTING THE V.C. ONE MONSTER OF THREE THE BLACK KNIGHT MISERERE THE BANTAM UNDER THE CHERRY TREE THE SOLDIER'S Vow—1915 VANITY FAIR GOD BLESS THEE, NADINE ! FLORENCE 27 32 33 34 37 40 41 43 44 46 . Lantian . . . 48 . 51 53 54 57 58 Enginnin. 1238795 5 629184 6 PAGE 60 61 63 65 67 70 72 73 75 76 79 81 82 . . 84 86 87 CAROL QUEEN OF THE NIGHT THE MORN. FOURTH OF AUGUST 1917 Vivos Voco. MORTUOS PLANGO. FULGURA FRANGO MANCHESTER HILL THE DECEASED WIFE'S SISTER GLORIA IN EXCELSIS THE COVENANT ON THE FIELDS OF FLANDERS THE KNOCKOUT BLOW-1917 SWORD AND SHIELD REX APOSTOLICUS MY KNIGHT " TÊTE CARRÉE” OH WHY? BEYOND THE SUNSET DEATH INTO LIFE. THE KING AM I WHO THE WOOF SHALL WEAVE? THE COCK HAS CROWED. THE LION OF WATERLOO BOUILLABAISSE KARMA LA BELGIQUE THE PROFITEER IN MEMORIAM JIM, THE DRUMMER Boy . UNDER WHICH CROWN ? LES FRANC-TIREUSES THE ARGO. IN A HOSPITAL WARD TEMPORA MUTANTUR-1918 89 . 91 92 94 96 98 99 1ΟΙ . 102 . 103 104 106 . I10 . III 112 . . 113 114 . 7 . • . . PAGE BEFORE GOD 116 HOSANNA TO HIM! 117 THE PROFESSIONAL DIPLOMATIST 119 “ LA FRANCE LE VEULT !”-1920 121 TITLES 123 MISERERE NOBIS, DOMINE 124 J'ACCUSE 125 RESURRECTION 126 FAITH 127 Two ROADS 128 SPIRIT DIVINE 130 FAITHFUL AND TRUE 132 BRITISH MASONIC BROTHERHOOD 133 FREEMASONRY 134 FATHER OF MAN 135 TRANSLATED AND RHYMED FROM A DEAD PRUSSIAN SOLDIER'S DIARY 137 CLEMENCEAU 139 WE DARE—1915 141 MORITURI TE SALUTANT 143 CHRISTIANS, DEAR BRETHREN, ARE WE 145 12TH AUGUST 1918. (IN THE HIPPODROME) 146 DOGGIE MINE : 148 LE TAMBOUR BAT . 153 BON PÈRE À TOUS 155 SOUVENIR DE MONTMARTRE-- 1918 157 LA DÉESSE LIBERTÉ 158 PRIÈRE D'UN BULGARE—1919 160 POURQUOI PAS? 162 CHAUVIN PARISIEN À “ GROSSE BERTHA”. 164 CHANTECLER RÉFORMÉ- ? 165 DEM SCHWESTERPAAR: ALBION, GERMANIA 167 DEUTSCHLAND . 168 . 8 • > . . . . PAGE 171 172 174 176 179 181 182 184 188 190 192 194 196 197 198 199 . WEIHNACHTEN-1914 “ MISSA PRO DEFUNCTIS". “APOLOGIA PRO VITA SUA”—1915 SIEGESFEST. BEICHTE TRAUERSTILLE DAS LIED VOM HASSE VOBISCUM PAX !- 1920 DER GOTTSUCHER . STARB FÜR'S VATERLAND. Es WERDE. 14TH DECEMBER 1918 CHRISTMAS GREETINGS-1918 PRESIDENT WILSON AVE TRIBUNUS PLEBIS, MUNDUS TE SALUTAT-1918 . THE TRIUMPH OF CHAOS ODE TO FREEDOM . HAIL, SAINT JOHN'S DAY! THE GOLDEN YEARS . . . 200 201 202 CETERUM CENSEO CARTAGINEM ESSE DELENDAM”. OYEZ! OYEZ ! THE DAWN. “THE DAY" 203 204 205 207 PROLOGUE "Bellaque matribus detesta."-HORACE. Tºo young to idle, too old to fight , , A “Hun” by lineage, British by right; I watch the crimson wings of the night For dawn to break, for glory of light. Clouds still thunder, the vulture cries, Hungry Death still Mercy defies, At the shrine of a withered Paradise Priests still bless the gospel of lies. a Peace upon Earth! From the old world's pyre Phenix ascend! Ours was the ire-- Ours be of Prayer the sacred fire, Ours the strains from the rose-wreathed lyre! 9 IO THE ROCK OF CASHEL “Gainst War itself, when this War passes, let Our bugles sound a charge.” WILLIAM WATSON. ) POETRY –such as Rupert Brooke loved to -- read, to write, and to live-grants relief to the full heart, and in the tempest of doubt, beneath the clouds of sorrow, its ever-fresh charms invoke heavenborn messages of solace. It is under such a nerve-racking shaking of faith, such a breaking of cherished traditions, that the verses collected in this volume—withered leaves from my war diary- have been composed. A silent spectator of the world-struggle, by reason of age and prejudice, I have watched with a grief-stricken soul the deadly strife between God's own brotherhood of races and nations, have seen victory sway from side to side, and now, a prayer on my lips, behold the final triumph of the people's cause I love so well. Inspired by Christ's sermon on the Mount, rendering homage to the Saints and Martyrs, and II symbolising man's pursuit of the highest and holiest, the knights of old went forth on their quest of the Holy Grail. They slew the dragons in their path, they sacrificed love to duty, and wandering through darkness and wilderness, sword in hand, taking God's message as their guiding star,-- immortal fighters—they aspired ever to the realms of brightness. Has such another crusade been in progress during this tragedy of destruction and hatred and conquest? Is the dawn of “ The Day” to appear under the trembling wings of deadly contention ? Have the knights again donned their armour to defeat the powers of evil, raising their standards amidst reeking floods of blood, and the cries of hunger-stricken women and babes, to make the good prevail ? The war with its chivalrous symbols, its records of heroic and vile acts, its history of tottering empires, its lies and intrigues, and its consolidation of a union of hearts in the British Commonwealth, has overthrown many idols in religion, in politics, and in commerce. To recon- struct society, to build the temple of peace, to forgive, to forget, to refuse to make the individual suffer in body and mind for the king's and the 12 statesman's sin, is now mankind's great task. Throughout this volume, in my Symphonie Pathé- tique, in Ahasuerus, written in 1914, and in the novel, On the Road to Hell, to be published shortly, one great idea will be found to the fore—the call for brotherhood ! As I have faith in God the Father, so do I cherish the belief that no hard materialism, no methods of barbarism, no despotic rule, no militarist forces can prevail against the moral strength of the people! Masks and faces may change, but the canons of truth must remain supreme for ever and ever. Even in hours of defeat and peril my courage never faltered, and I claim my written words, if they serve no other purpose, as the proof of an undeviating devotion to the country of my adoption, a record of lifelong aims, combined with the unalterable conviction that “good is the final goal of ill," and that through suffering, sacrifice, faith, and a union of interests, under the blessing of Freedom, the Holy Grail may be at last achieved. “EDENDALE,” WHALLEY RANGE, MANCHESTER, On the Lord's 1919th Birthday. 13 OZYMANDIAS “Drive my dead thoughts over the Universe Like withered leaves to quicken a new birth.” SHELLEY. THE 'HE first edition was presented to an Areopagus of Guardians or supposed-to-be Guardians of “Salus populi,” including those martyrs to Humanity, the school teacher and the Church of England curate, who on a charwoman's wage are entrusted with the godly mission of moulding the character of the world's future rulers. Fool that I was to render homage to models of that mutual-admiration clan in whose company, through no fault of my own, I had in vain endeavoured to appreciate Victor Hugo's dictum, “Fortuna favet fatuis”! My experiment of substituting for the fossilised Christmas card an exchange of spiritual courtesies brought about strange results. Worthy fellow-citizens sent charming messages, or softened their criticisms by pæans on my devotion to a noble cause~comments I treasure, pride of my 14 old age. Those whom I would have ignored but for the call of Noblesse oblige, failed to appreciate the compliment; so that copies of The Hermit's War Lyrics are now attesting the author's merit on the dusty shelves of a local second-hand book- stall. A brother Consul addressed me as “Deer Consol”; a recently demobilised jolly Bohemian, D.S.O., M.C., reciprocated my greetings with a skit on England's Trinity, to wit, Saint George, King George, and Lloyd George, wisely ignoring the other Georges. The missive, being underpaid, was allowed to pass by the Censor, although curious Dame D.O.R.A. loved as a general rule to investi- gate my correspondence. Some O.B.E.'s, some Coalition knights, and a Lord Mayor, “having arrived,” enwrapped themselves in the dignity of silence. A Professor, a tribunus plebis, whose political somersaults are more fascinating than his forensic successes, claimed the Spanish Inquisitor's right to erase from the memory of man the lessons of history. To him the Ides of March, as described in “Oyez! Oyez!” are but the hallucinations of an enfeebled mind, the babbling of mala lingua. Poor misguided brother of mine, who dares to deprive the Alsatian of the benefit of Humanity's gospel! 15 22 What is granted the Dane, the Pole, and the Slav, what is offered to fossilised realms and to empires still sleeping in embryo, the inalienable right to determine their own destiny, surely the Reichsländer may claim ! “Mein Herz ist mein," says “ Tête Carrée in my poem. “Why the . answer in German?"-Has England's man of letters forgotten the ordinance of America's man of letters, the President's ordinance, as immortal as the Decalogue, as Christ's own sermon on the Mount, and, alas! as unfulfilled ? According to official statistics compiled in 1910 from each inhabitant's own declaration, out of 1,218,803 people in Alsace, 958 per cent. spoke German ; only to 0.4 was French the mother-tongue. The unfettered thinker was therefore entitled to conclude that the German- speaking “Elsass,” after two centuries under a a foreign yoke, was German again in hopes and aspirations. Are these statements garbled ? were these figures falsified ? Yes or No? Why no plebiscite? Is it true that the French expelled 300,000 Alsatians from their ancestral homes? Let the mask be torn away from the rotting cadaver of lies; for whether in the hands of a “Sale Boche a “Pal Foch”-mutatis mutandis force is or 16 no remedy, and hypocrisy is blasphemy before God and man. "Employez la force, puisque vous l'avez; mais apprenez que si vous êtes maîtres de mon corps, vous ne l'êtes point de mon âme. Libre, dans le région où elle est placée, elle ne craint rien des événements d'ici bas, je touche au seuil d'une autre vie, là je serai à l'abri de la violence et de l'impiété.” Thus spoke Pope Pius VI. in 1798, when France-guillo- tining France, thieving, blaspheming France- violated the rights of the Holy See. To-day these sentiments resound in the soul of God-fearing men. In the manliness of grief England called the British Empire to arms, Belgium sacrificed soul and body, America sent treasure and the flower of her chivalry across the seas—FOR WHAT? To smash the system of Prussianism, to renounce the French heritage of conscription, to liberate Humanity from the officially nursed sin of national hatred and suspicion, to destroy the philo- sophy of the beast of prey, confessed in unguarded moments of triumph or defeat; not to enslave free- born men, not to nurse the ghastly craving for revenge, "wrath laid up against the day of wrath.” To a reborn France, heroic in defence, patient in > 17 suffering, inspired by the glory of Mercy, to a truly Christian France, to a France that lives for the cause of Freedom, we will give our hearts. Blessed too be the day when the British Empire's workers and thinkers may again hail in a reborn Germany, hallowed by suffering and sacrifice, and reviving the glories of days gone by, the Spirit of “ Brotherly Love, Succour, and Truth”! In publishing a revised second edition of my book I claim the right to voice what many of my fellow- citizens think but refrain from expressing. Homage to the dead, justice to the living! For the happiness of future generations, peace-loving brothers all to be, do I pray. Eastermorn 1920. 2 18 WHAT SEE WE NOW? “ôte-toi de là, que je m'y mette.” – PANNATI. HAST Thou once more, Great Spirit, whom As God, as Nature, mastering unsolved problems Of Destiny, and yet who livest in us, Sublime Creator of the soul immortal, A Holy Grail where prayers will ne'er fail, Proclaimed our fate? Hast torn the quivering veil From War's mad craze, the shrieking world to free, Humanity one Brotherhood to be? Man slaughtered man as butchers slaughter swine ; But shall the forest-law our Europe govern, The tiger's roar profane the godly silence That fell upon us when the guns were muted And mourning mankind, kneeling at the shrine Which denotes Peace and bears the name divine, Fervently vowed the reeking sword to sheathe, To Heaven's Grace its vengeance to bequeath? 19 Are we scrap-iron, but linked by a screw To wheels of engines crushing ever, ever Life's golden seeds, that harvest only gather Of tears and curses and of tortured corpses ? Great Spirit Thou,—where now the breeze that blew From Mercy, where the sun-kissed waves that threw Of Faith the treasures and of Love the lore, Good fairies both, on our forsaken shore? - mangy cattle Empires we broke and souls for souls we sold, Great statesmen prattled of their holy mission, Each mob looks down upon the " ” Of alien birth ;-Great Spirit, did we battle For such conception vile, and spend our gold And England's youths ?—they, heroes all, were told, “ As God's own men, Justice to guard, we fight!” What see we now? Restored the Devil's might? Eastermorn 1921. 20 THAT'S MY MOTTO, FRIENDS 2 ) 66 BORN “I love to hunt the Hun, and I shall hunt him to the end of my life."--HORATIO BOTTOMLEY, M.P., O.B.E., etc., November 1919. ORN in Hanover, English by choice" That's my motto, friends! And I challenge the clamant voice Of Passion, prone to rejoice, — Ignoring the pledge of the nation- When villainous hands seek my dower With slanderous charge to devour. Before God I am claiming, friends, Honour's guardians of old, The scrap of paper I hold Ranks higher than purple or gold ! " England-Liberty Hall”- That's my motto, friends! Shattering the towers of thrall, Heralding Humanity's call, Quickening the pledge of the nation 21 That by deeds immortal has wrought The image of Love's noble thought! Before God I am claiming, friends, The Empire's burden to bear, Your grief and your joy to share; And those who belie me-beware! ) - "Confound the Thug and his coil” — That's my motto, friends! And the footpad who flashes his foil, And the slanderer proud of his toil,- Ignoring the pledge of the nation- Shatter their phials of wrath, Break down the barrier, 'tis but lath! Before God I am claiming, friends, Shoulder to shoulder to fight The battle for Right against Might, Mankind in peace to unite. 22 THE LAW DIVINE Take away the sword, States can be saved without it.”-LORD LYTTON. BRELA REAK now the web that cunning demons wove On corpse-fed looms, in shreds the shrouds be torn! War drank my tears, War mocked my Faith, War shorn Of tender virtues, pitiless its scorn, My will and conscience into bondage drove. Since vice-bred Lust of Liberty the name Usurp'd, and bribed the Destinies to find In brutal force the Saviour of Mankind, - Its glutton eye to Love's sweet message blind, - My breast became a flaming torch of shame. 'Tween frozen conscience and hot burning will I lingered, till in solitude benign My soul craved refuge at the Holy Shrine, There to seek solace in the Law Divine, That God made man to love man, not to kill. 23 And then the service of my Love I vowed, The Love that asks no question, gives its best, Fears not of final sacrifice the test; That sets at rest the tempest in our breast, And lives on Earth with Heaven's Grace endowed. 24 LAND OF MY CHOICE “As a man is within, so he judges what is without.” THOMAS À KEMPIS. L AND of my birth, land over-sea, Where Love, the priest at the dawn of Life, Enchanted the soul, Faith to revive, In the gospel of Peace, to pray and to strive For the brotherhood of Humanity; Land of my birth, once dear to me, In pursuit once high, and of noble race; In crusades immortal of Heaven-blessed Grace, The tempests of Passion boldly to face, Is there no longer a mission for thee? Land of my choice, land of the free, Thy challenge I shared by Right to abide, And thy sword I honoured, the Empire's pride, A union of strife-sick nations to guide To the dream-cherished haven of Liberty! 25 Land of my choice !-half a century My home, -why mine the harrowing fate To silence slander, to conquer hate In cruel eyes that watch and wait When Mercy is claiming her legacy? Thou, who in Europe's great tragedy, Land of my birth, once God's own land, To the four winds hurled the firebrand, Break helmet and casque, purge thy blood-stained hand, And homage yield to the Deity! At the unsealed springs of Destiny, Mankind's Faith seeks the wand sublime To heal the wounds with the balsam of time, To redeem the soul from the doom of crime, Kindling the light of Liberty ! 26 OUR HYMN “The people is a beast of muddy brain.” TOMMASO CAMPANELLA. THE 'HE third of Georges, proud of British birth, Whose clouded spirit schemed to bring to earth All Freedom's noblest aims, whose paltry worth E’en England's crouching courtiers dared not praise, One service rendered to the human race. Fate in his hands the sword of Justice laid, The Corsican to smite, and thus was stayed Freebooting France's vice, battle-arrayed. Then, like the bursting of a prisoned flame, Into our birthright, Spirit-winged, we came. O'er storm-tossed seas Time speeds her strenuous flight. Shall now again the fangs of treacherous might Asunder rend the charter of man's Right? In reborn sin uproot Hope's ruddy bloom ? The mail-clad world lead to a carrion's doom? 27 BILL SMITH “Majesty of the nature of man! In crowds not I seek thee-- only a few ever count.”-SCHILLER. Bien ILL SMITH, that's the name-aye, common enough. No beauty was he either : A skipper by trade, rough, gruff, and tough, Of the breed that neither shirks nor fears, And his ship, trusting God, to her destiny steers. Westward he sailed from the Dogger Bank With three good hands and a laddie, And silvery fish on deck and in tank, The minefields to cross, and at dawn of day His anchor to drop in Dover Bay. Clear stood the moon and the stars shone bright, White-winged and azure-sandalled ; But the sea gleamed red thro' the veil of night, And the man at the wheel kept a sharp lookout : “Aye, ready and steady—the foe is about !” 28 And the anchor, rusty and worn, that knew Of the silent depth the horrors, The lore of the storm and Heaven's blue, Its limbs stretched forth with a sigh and a crack, Whispering weird tales to the ropes on the rack. The man at the wheel the voices heard, And he crossed himself; and the skipper With a frown and a curse watched the black- feathered bird That few round the capstan and cabin beam, With a vicious thrust and a savage scream. And then from the waves a spectre rose, And it shook its uncouth features ; Steel-clad the soul, a machine-gun the nose, A torpedo the claws, living harvest to glean- The enemy's vanguard: A Submarine ! And in the distance a phalanx grey, Breathing hell's fire and fury, Dreadnoughts ready for action lay : Lord of the sea, land of the free, Mighty Albion, we challenge thee !” 29 But round England's coast the mines are laid; The road to cross them, who knows it? Woe to the ship and woe to her trade, That rashly attempts to force the main !- No mortal eye shall see her again. And a shot rang out—“Ship ahoy, stand by!” And Bill Smith, the skipper, muttered, “ To hell with you all!” but he shouted, Aye, aye!” And a boat was lowered and a man stepped on board Stern was his eye, and his question was short : “ Is there a channel to steer thro' the mines?” “There is,” responded the skipper, And never he flinched. “Do you know the lines? ” “ I do." 6. Then onward to Dover lead, Or the fish of the deep on your body shall feed.” “I will,” said Bill Smith. To his boy he bent : “Swing out the dingy and anchor!” And then to the bridge he quietly went ; But his teeth were set and his mood was grim, And he looked at his men, and his men looked at him. 30 And his men understood—“For England to die, That England may live !” The skipper Uplifted his eye to the roseate sky, And his soul was with God when he grasped the wheel, Into the minefields to turn the keel. Crouched in his dingy, the skipper's boy Beheld the enemy's squadron ; Their errand he cursed to kill and destroy, And his fate he cursed, and he cursed the tide, And he cursed the sea and his lonely ride ; And he cursed the wind and the white-winged sail, Onward leading, onward ; And then in the East serene and pale The glory dawned of the new-born day, And the boy fell on his knees to pray. The sun has risen-o'er the glittering plain On a sudden there rolls a thunder! a And crashes, red-flashing, are shaking the main ; High in the air a fierce-glowing spire, The brow of Heaven a cauldron of fire! a 31 The sun has risen—comes silence deep, But the Spirit of God is moving : What the hand has sown the Soul shall reap, Women must weep, men must fight, Women for Love, men for Right. Bill Smith, that's the name-aye, common enough, For there are Smiths by the thousand- A skipper, rough and gruff and tough, Nature's gallant gentleman he, His life gladly gave that we might be free! And the waves shall sing the song of his fame, A song for ever and aye. . Rough, gruff, and tough, Bill Smith, that's the name, Of the breed that neither shirks nor fears, And his ship, trusting God, to her destiny steers. 32 DEN LEEUW VAN VLAANDEREN-1914 O “ Ye who suffer woes untold Or to feel or to behold Your lost country bought and sold For a price of blood and gold. ..." SHELLEY. PROSTRATE realm, where sins of the impure On weeping victims breathe the war-led flame Of savagery! And yet, they cannot tame Thy Spirit bold nor tarnish thy fair fame Of Chivalry, time-honoured and mature. Justice thy armour bright, thy standard God, Thou know'st not fear, thou plead'st for no retreat! On sun-kissed heights redeemed mankind shall greet The Lion of Flanders-broken at his feet The Victor's eagles, the Avenger's rod! Whilst crowns are shaking, ancient realms undone, From gentle thoughts springs forth Love's golden seed, And man hails man, the fervent prayer to speed : " When we of war's behest our souls have freed, Then, only then, is Freedom's battle won!” 33 PRO PATRIA " And War and Victory, be thine arms my grave.” JOHANNES Evans. ENT from the yoke of labour and of years, Before the hearth a lonely couple sits; He reads the Bible, and the woman knits, And sombre-eyed into the embers peers. BENT “For England he fights, for England to live or to die : He asked not why, when they put the hest to the test”: “The Lord hath given.” “ The will of the Lord be blest.” A silence deep.—“Hear'st thou the eagle's cry?" “The cry I hear, the eagle's cry ;-at rest His soul, he solved the supreme mystery, * Life touching lips with immortality'”:- " The Lord hath taken.” “The will of the Lord be blest.” 3 34 LES MARAUDEURS "Ecrasez l'infâme.”_VOLTAIRE. ST TORM-WINGED the night- In battle's blast The die is cast; Masked the beacon of Right, A bauble of tinsel and rags and plaster : The Sword is Master! Valour mates Hate, Bears in her womb Liberty's doom; With steel-clad Fate Man struggles and writhes ; but it shatters Him into tatters. Hush! a whisper, a call, — Sigh from a breast; To Virgin blest, A challenge the world to enthrall ? Fear'st Death the glutton, the ruthless Reaper, War's over-gorged Keeper ? 35 The Earth asleep; Beasts scent a trail, In moon-lit dale To the trenches they creep, Vultures obscene, howling and shrieking, The Devil soul-seeking. Up flares a light On hill, where dead And dying spread, Will-o'-the-wisps, red-eyed, Shrouds for burial now are shaking : Dawn is breaking Sack on her back, Gun in his right, A shot,—they fight ! Then o'er the bloodstained track Soldiers rush on, lashed into fury, Judges and jury! Unpitying! Hacked off with knife, Finger, still warm with life, Wearing a diamond ring; White flesh, red froth, hard by yellow blotches, Gold chains and watches. 36 Slayers are slain, Corpses are meat For vultures to eat, For the winds to sweep them away! Man, as the sun shines, mildly caressing, Prays for a blessing 37 DANDY DAN “True love by life, true love by death is tried. Live thou for England; we for England died." POLPERRO. GOD'S harvest to OD'S harvest to reap, Mother Earth was asleep, And so were my pals; but I On the ramparts stood, lone guard to keep ; And the clouds swept o'er the sky Fleecy and white, like a drove of sheep. And then a challenge, the eagle's cry, Thro' throbbing silence flew; Steel-clawed, its death-feathered arrows from high On love-seeking Mankind threw, A ravenous monster-firefly. And the bugles blew and the thunder grew, Shoulder to shoulder we stood, When a halo of red rose on Heaven's blue, And the Earth shivered and shook As if in the throes of immortal woe. 38 he: Dandy Dan, our Captain, "'Tention!” says Dandy Dan, the last of his clan, His moustache as black as ebony, A gentleman spick and span, The monocle as bright as his pedigree. “Give them hell!” says he, and the slaughter began. “And when ye're near,” says he, “Each man pick his man and go for his man!” · And hell we'll give them!” say we; And “The Devil bless you!” says Dandy Dan. 66 “'Tention, Fusiliers ! fix bayonets! Charge!” No coward fear: With a smile the monocle he firmly set, And we charged with a mighty cheer, And Dandy Dan to glory us led. a And thro' shot and thro' shell, a whirlwind we sped; Switching his cane, spick and span, Dandy Dan his destiny met. Dying says he : “En avant ! " “En avant !” say we, “En avant !" you bet! ) 39 To rest we laid the last of his clan Where the debt to nature he paid, With cane and monocle, all spick and span; And the Padre his litany said “ 'Tention!”-A volley.-Good-bye, Dandy Dan! And now when I think of the days of old, The slaying by kingly command, With a shudder my hands to prayer I fold: May Warfare's firebrand Never again my eyes behold. 40 HARVESTING “Our souls have sight of that immortal sea, which brought us hither.”_WORDSWORTH. WHE THEN the sword of England our statesmen drew To fight for Freedom 'gainst ruthless might, Into our message, “ Abide by right, Man's destiny fearlessly lead to the height,” The voices of Heaven we threw. Shoulder to shoulder the Empire stood, Stout hearts never flinched in the roar of the gale, And we mastered our tears, and we solaced the wail Of grief-stricken souls, and we swore not to fail, For we knew that our cause was good. Our Honour we pledged, the pledge we shall keep; And when our comrades to rest we lay In the trenches they gallantly conquered, we pray: Almighty God, O hasten the day When Mankind the harvest may reap!” 41 THE V.C. Cavalier sans peur et sans reproche."--BAYARD. (Dedicated to Major H. KELLY, V.C., D.S.O., M.C., etc.) TWAS WAS on a French farm, a devilish hot spot, Outnumbered we were by the foe; With his long-necked guns the range And our lines he peppered with shrapnel and shot, The stretchers went to and fro. he had got, Up rode a General, his coat black and tan; “Can ye hold the farm ? ” wheezed he. · Our Colonel looked daggers; he growled, “We . can!” And our Colonel we cheered : aye, man for man, Neither Satan nor Boche feared we. “ Lads, Honour bright!' Honour bright to keep With a shout and a d----- we vowed ; And we watched fiery snakes thro' the valley creep, Ruddy tongues from the tanks and the trenches leap; Undaunted we stood, unbowed. 42 а Then all of a sudden, from hill and ravine Dread mists crept over the track, And thro' a green screen, almost unseen, Of our flesh and our blood the harvest to glean, The enemy rushed to attack. a Our Colonel looked daggers, and he growld, you bet, Lads, Honour bright!” “Yes, sir!" The rifle hot, the bayonet red, Shot for shot we gave, steel with steel we met, For hell, flaming hell was astir. The victory we courted, the victory we won ; “Honour bright” and nothing faked ! Why the V.C.?-Don't know : every one Of my pals did as much as I've done; “Honour bright" of England was staked. Staked was the honour of England, and now Shiver the man-slaying rod ! No nation to conquer, and none to endow With the Empire's blood and treasure we vow : “Honour bright,” so help us God! 43 ONE MONSTER OF THREE “Il Paradiso è all'ombra della spada." D'ANNUNZIO (Rapagnetta). a “Α' N eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth,” The Jews used to pray, going out to slay : What have ye Supermen-Christians to say, Prophets of Paradise, Lovers of Truth? No quarter expected, no mercy shown; War to the hilt, savagely willed, With corpses the road to Heaven filled, - Supermen-Christians—the Devil's own! Vikings, fanatics, or dupes ? Carried on Too long, honey-tongued ;--answer the call ! The jury meets—Humanity all;- And the Verdict ? “One monster begotten of three.” 44 THE BLACK KNIGHT 6 “ Jus silet inter arma.” MID: IDST dying and dead, where the furrows reek Of terrors begotten in hell, Where vultures gather and night-owls shriek, Where the shell-torn trunks of willows creak, And the winds drawl a woe-born knell- On the crest of the hill a Rider draws rein, The flare of battle his light; With a fiendish smile he surveys the plain, And in anguish cry out the souls of the slain : “Good Lord, 'tis Revenge, the Black Knight!” Immortal his bond, a spirit bold, He rules o'er death, o'er life; He rules to-day as he ruled of old, Enfettering virtue, vice to uphold, In his mission of hatred and strife. 45 Up to the crest of the hill march the dead, Grey shapes they, splashed with red; A mother's love the body has bred, Ambition and greed the mind have fed, Till the sword cut life's golden thread. And the Rider beholds the slaves of his might; Winds blow and the waters roll ;- The dawn is breaking ; “Angels of Light, Deliver our sons from Revenge, the Black Knight, Betrayer of body and soul!” 46 MISERERE “ Fit via vi.” _VIRGIL. FAN 'ANTASIA, gaily winged with music bland, Joyfully voicing immortal command, To Heaven flew, mankind's forbidden land, Light from darkness to sunder, Anguished worlds to enchant thro' Love's wond'rous wand. The shades of night fair visions have blurred, The voice of Hell man's passion has stirred, The songs I loved are no longer heard ; The cannons flame and thunder, Storm-sped, while ever onward races the reaper's scythe. Blessed be the memory of days gone by, Rose-scented the earth and cloudless the sky; Too deep now the Hatred ever to die, Shattered the Grail, despised The spirit of Christ, woe-worn the soul that had faith ; 47 My conscience is fettered, my prowess is drilled ; To kill being bidden, I obeyed—I killed, Doing the deed that the old men willed. Brother, who winnows my chatter? The spirits of night incited the fight-and the dawn? At God's sacred altar vigil I keep, In dreams I shudder, at prayer I weep : In blood thou sowest, in blood thou shalt reap!" Brother, say, does it matter That o'er our corpses to glory the war-lords leap? 48 THE BANTAM “Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori.”—HORACE. HE E feared not Death's solemn call, And the men in his platoon- Bantams, Manchesters all- Had sworn to conquer or fall :- "Fire away, boys; fire away! Au revoir on the Judgment Day!” a In Ancoats he had been reared, His dad kept a pawnbroker's shop; And when he volunteered His pals only tittered and sneered: “By gum, it's a blooming bluff! He ain't made of soldiering stuff.” But when in the flaming West He followed the fifes and the drums, The joy of life in his breast, To the Padre he said in a jest: “ Some folk for a lass bail their soul, To my Country I pledge my parole.” 49 Thunder of guns in his ears, Fire and blood on his track, Old age he saw broken with tears, Green youth consoled by cheers, And the true cross of sacrifice Gleamed as a pearl in the blood-red skies. Then from the trenches one day A message there was to take Across the “No Man's” way. “Who will the task essay ? The stakes ? Death,—the V.C.” “I'll take on the job,” smiling, said he. ) Smiling he went o'er the top, 'Midst a shower of crashing steel, With a counter-jumper's hop- A trait from the pawnbroker's shop; When a bullet struck him.-Where? There ! Who cares?_Onward he raced with a prayer. Then something burst at his side ; The wound with his right he clenched. “To hell with your shells !" he cried, , Sped on with a lustier stride, 4 50 a Till he heard a loud British cheer- “Who goes there?” “ Bantam !" Grenadier !” “ Here, His message he gave—that's all His hand to salute he raised, In the grasp of Death to fall The Last Post sounded its call, The Bantam to rest we laid, And a volley we fired. The Padre said: “He has dreamt the splendid dream, Proud of his duty and race; He has heard the War God's scream, And the Angel's call to redeem. Turn towards the sun his face : May he taste the love of God's grace!” 51 UNDER THE CHERRY TREE "Hush, hush! It is the charm of nothingness.”—JOSEPH ELLIS. THE HE sky feathery-white, fragrant the air, A black-eyed thrush woos a rosebud fair, Sweet honey gathers the humming bee, And the butterfly dances rejoicingly, Under the Cherry Tree. The old, old song the thrush will sing, And the rosebud dreams of Love's golden spring ; When spirits of darkness, breaking the spell, On quivering wings ring a rising knell Under the Cherry Tree. Storm-tossed the clouds, and the cannons roar, Corpses the harvest, Peace nevermore ; Satan has thundered his fiendish hest, Love's golden spring sank awed to rest Under the Cherry Tree. 52 The black-eyed thrush knows better then, And scorns the allurement of men-slaying men, And the rosebud hearkens and wonders why The rye is in flames, and the wounded cry Under the Cherry Tree. The sun is folding his ruddy wings, The thrush the old, old song still sings, The touch of Venus has outshone hell, And the rosebud dreams of the marriage bell, — Under the Cherry Tree. 53 THE SOLDIER'S VOW–1915 "Surely the time will come when Humanity refuses to be diseased any longer."-EDWARD CARPENTER. WHE THEN our boys—God bless them !--come marching home, - O the day, the day! O the glorious day! Brother mine, pray, what will they say ? Weary in body, the soul wrapt in gloam, Five years spent in serfdom and shambles, and now- Brother mine, say! What now,--and how ? Never again shall Empires play The blood-rearing game of man-cursing fame, With Hatred's deeds Love's mission to shame! And here is the soldier's faith-tongued parley : “We fought to gain peace, we fought to be free- In the name of the Fallen, so shall it be!" 54 VANITY FAIR “Is it not written, My house shall be called a house of prayer for all the nations ?"-SAINT MARK. LA A FRANCE, Vanity Fair, Rushed to Destiny's lair, Sword-braided her bridal veil ; The capricious despot caressing She besought an oracular blessing, Buckling on war's shining mail. The drums to quarters beat : England her fate to meet, See, stands up as of old ! We renounced our pleasures, our labours, We sharpened our wits and our sabres, The world to remould, we were told. No visions of conquest we chased, When our deathless standards we raised Europe to free was our plea ; And fighting we kept, and praying For the glorious dawn, surveying The paradise yet to be, 55 In the hail of shot and shell, Four years of shrieking hell In silence and patience borne ; Effacing from Life's golden psalter The chapter of love, the altar Forlorn, the covenant torn. Two millions of broken lives, And untold stores of our gold- Behold, we redeemed our word; Tho' our lips may in anguish stammer, Still are we forging the hammer, In armour our manhood to gird. True to immortal tradition, Europe to save from perdition England has buried her dead; Yet the harrowing soul of the mother Prays that our enemy brother In her goodly footsteps may tread. No glittering guerdon at stake, Ours was Humanity's sake, And we challenged the terrors of night Till Hope from a roseate bower, Revealing her sacred dower, Bequeathed us the glory of Light. 56 La France, Vanity Fair, Laurel-crowned her lair, The “Reichsland" claims, and say we: “To the foe the rack of contrition, To the friend the saintly mission Of mercy and amity.” . Cursed be the herald, again Bugles to sound! In vain Shall the brave of England have died ? 'Midst horrors of killing and maiming The bounty on Earth we are claiming, Too long to our prayers denied. La France, purge thy reeking lair ; Erect, thou Vanity Fair, The cross where the plague-haunts stood : The sword was once our redeemer,- Master now be the dreamer Of God's own Brotherhood! 57 GOD BLESS THEE, NADINE! To My GRANDCHILD, 23rd April. LOT OVE-WINGED, my heart goes out to thee, Sweet flower, kissed by purple morn; Long-dormant visions, dreams reborn, Thy feast shall crown with holy glee, Wreathed by roses that bear no thorn. Hail to thee, flower on Life's bright tree, Soul thou of grace and of purity! Gather spring's treasure, age to adorn; When Time has extended his shadowy wing, What girlhood conceived, the woman shall glean In the bower of Love, the harvest of spring !- The sun has risen, on the sea-belted green The birds are gathering : hush, hark! they sing: “Little Queen, little Queen-God bless thee, Nadine!” 58 FLORENCE To my friend, C. F. WURSTER, Esquire. Aequam memento rebus in arduis servare mentem.” HORACE, Carmen ii. A TRAGEDY! The thunder, friend, Shook the whole world, God's winnowing fan You braved the storm, you were a man! And thus you spoke: “'Tis not the end. Life's closing chapter I will read In classic nooks, where rose and vine Entwine an ancient heathen shrine, Where myth and legend visions breed, Where pine and olive overcast Each other's boughs, to wondrous dreams Invite, where winding Arno's streams Record the pride of Tuscan past. And you were right-why should Why should you share the mad world's doom? Whilst soul and body grant it yet, Weave threads of gold on memory's loom, you fret? 59 Bless moon and stars, hail morning's call, The green-clad hills, the valley bright; Forget that leaves in autumn fall, Remember only-Life is Light! And when the Reaper bends to free You from the bond of direful birth, Weary of tarrying on this earth, Where Love is dead, where Hate's full-grown, Salute the dawn of the Unknown, And hail the boat that founders never, And cross the bar, at peace for ever! 60 CAROL “Amiamoci, la vita è nell' amore, il resto è nulla.” THOU "HOU Minstrel Love, who with Olympian fire My heartstrings thrillst,-Divinity, to free From quivering doubts the plea of Chivalry! In radiance growing, as the flame mounts higher, On soaring wings bring saintly homily, Disperse blind passion! Yet, why still the ire That calls the vanquished who to Thee aspire, The outlawed vagrants of Humanity ? Love, burn for Souls, Spirit to Spirit cry; Discordant chants of hatred and the lie, True to Thy noble ordinance, defy ! Rear tenderer thoughts, O Love, to tortured mind; Grant godly Grace, for Brotherhood, assigned To all Mankind, the Holy Grail to find ! 61 QUEEN OF THE NIGHT “Retro me, Sathana.”—DANTE GABRIELE ROSSETTI. HALL AIL, hail to thee, Moon, Queen of the Night! Beaming in silence on Earth's shadowed shell, O'er dreamland casting a wondrous spell, Ruling supreme in empyreal height. White-winged strays a ray, it leaps to the spray Of the brooklet that rushes gaily along From the trance-webbed dell with a merry ding- dong, And a rose to caress stops on the way. Then calleth the East! Hoar sentinel Time His bow is drawing of gold-molten hue, Shoots a swift arrow into the blue, Chases the clouds, and heralds the prime ! Little birds are astir, little birds watch the light That flashes from towering spheres, to proclaim The birth of the Morn : little birds watch the flame On the dying torch of the Queen of the Night. 62 “Let a new world be, hushing tears and cries, Love, the peace-mated master, to crown!”— To the brooklet sparkling in bridal gown The rose bends down, and she blushes and sighs. Little birds to the Heavens sweet messages bear : Glory to God!” and jubilant Of Life's golden spring the hymn they chant! Man searches his soul, man kneels in prayer : “Who can doubt and deny, that looks on Thee, O Holy Spirit of Mercy and Might? Shedding as much of Love as of Light, Mingling our souls with Eternity.” 63 THE MORN “The Lord hath done great things for us, whereof we are glad.”—PSALM 126. DE EEP-SET the eye, the rifle in his hand, He faces the foe, the terrors of No Man's Land, And the moon rises, sphered in transparent clouds ; And flaming thro' space the bombs are seeking their shrouds, Black-browed, storm-sped, ploughing Life's mystic shore With dragon teeth and Hell's own tempestuous roar. He cuts the wire, he creeps thro' the stenching mud, Trampling on corpses, smeared with thick-crusted blood; Lolling heads he sees, weird shapes lurch back, red their track, Passion-parted the lips, body and soul on the rack; 64 And he shouts and he stabs, drunk with the rag- time score, Till his doom is sealed, till he shouts, till he stabs nevermore.- Silenced the brazen thunder of battle, forlorn Fate's spectral phantoms : “Awake! Born is the Morn!" And the Reaper, gathering bloom in the whispering rye, Gently touches his breast, gently closes his eye : “Son of eternal prime, whom in fell despite Thy brother has slain, ascend to the glory of Light!” 65 FOURTH OF AUGUST 1917 “ Thine heart should feel what thou may'st hourly see, That Deity's basis is Humanity.” ROBERT BLOOMFIELD. THR HREE years we fought ; still fighting is the world; The more we slay, the greater seems our glory; Of flaming steel, of waves of thunder hurled, We, in detachment, daily read the story. Of other people's treasure nought we want ; In mankind's soul Love's golden seed to plant, We pledged our own, as England's covenant ! Some of my friends, God-fearing patriots all, Thro' force expect Humanity's remission, Responding gladly to the Empire's call, On duty bent, ennobling proud tradition ; Whilst others, guarding well our peaceful rear, With epithets galore to sportsmen dear, As plaintiff , judge, and jury do appear. 5 66 If through some spell, conceived in deepest Hell, A nation to immoral acts is driven, Nor hate nor fear,---- Love is the healing well, Where angels pray for sins for sins to be forgiven. Our brother's guilt with patience to efface, Enshrined by valour and redeemed by grace : Thank God, that is the birthright of our race! And when I hear of those I'm told to hate, My old-time friends, maybe who keep devising Some hellish plot to steer the wheel of fate- “ Mock not the outcast," must I keep advising ? For Freedom is our fight, let us be free! This victory won, a greater Victory The People's Peace, shall bless Humanity! 67 · VIVOS VOCO. MORTUOS PLANGO. FULGURA FRANGO” Easter 1917. THE HE spirits of night hurled cloud-wrack which now swims Across the moon; weird shadows haunt the diggers On No Man's Land; the Dead lie-white-robed figures, Lone star of Heaven guard their battered limbs! Shouldering his rifle stands the Sentinel. “ Halt! Who goes there?”—'Tis but the wind that lifted A bunch of leaves, spring's withered mates, and drifted Legends of sunshine to the frozen dell. Hush! something stirs—"To arms!” the bugle wakes! Thro' stillness sounds the tramp of men advancing, And round their shell-torn trail fierce flames are dancing, Cruel reaper Death his ruddy harvest takes. 68 Deep-voiced the mortars, fleet-tongued cannons shriek; From Heaven's brow descends a peal of thunder, And rolls and bursts and tears the earth asunder, As if Hell's quivering depth it thought to seek. Dark shadows creeping near, the Sentinel Now sees-good God !—then something sways his vision. “Halt! Who goes there? - The Cross ? — An - apparition ?- Stand back!” The gun he clutches with a yell. ” a . And then grey figures climb the parapet, Man faces Man, Man's iron strikes Man's body, And down goes Man, a mess of flesh and shoddy That surgeon's knife can ne'er reintegrate. Man faces Man, for Man has Man to kill ; And yet, 'tis said, “Man be to Man a brother”. Man never harmed, Man never knew the other, And yet his duty is Man's blood to spill ! - The one affirms on Freedom's call to fight, The other claims the magic spell of culture, And ogre Conquest, the insatiate vulture, Covets their treasures and beguiles their right. 69 Not to enslave dominions have we fought; Sin-burdened souls to rescue from perdition, To Love's sweet quest we proudly pledged our mission, And hoped the deed would tally with the thought. The Light !-the Dawn!—“Awake! 'Tis Easter Morn!" Ring forth, ye bells ! His enemies forgiving Died Jesus Christ ; and shall to us, the living- (Glory to Him!)—His Spirit be reborn ? 70 “ MANCHESTER HILL" March 22, 1918. “With soaring voice and solemn music sing ! High to Heaven's gate let pealing trumpets ring !” LEWIS MORRIS. WHEN THERE Spanish chivalry of old At Saint-Quentin French prowess swayed, When long our bones in churchyards mould, Legends of valour will be told : How one battalion, honour-bright, The thundering tide of Prussian might In blood-drenched trench and ravine stayed. At Saint-Quentin, a hill bears now The name that world-renowned became, Since on its shell-ploughed, cross-sown brow “ Pals” of the Manchesters did vow : “This is our day, hold on or break, For Freedom's sake our lives we stake; Fate, throw thy dice, --- we play the game!” 71 The game they played, no fool nor knave- True “sports,” the lads of Lancashire ! With throbbing hearts their all they gave On that red hill. Here's to the Brave . Of Saint-Quentin! May the Divine For ever close Bellona's shrine, And Peace grant to our mortal sphere ! 72 THE DECEASED WIFE'S SISTER a “'Twas a thief said the last kind word to Christ." BROWNING. THE HE body bent, in tatters clad, On crutches too, one leg is short, Grief-stricken he comes to the Court : “A claim !” “A claim for what?_Thou art mad!” " Listen! “ Wife dead, six bairns alone; Her sister tends them sacredly; But says the Church : 'It cannot be No marriage !'-yet she is my own. . “A wounded soldier's dreadful plea, Let Mormon's creed be sanctified.” But oh! the Court is horrified “A bad lot thou, a 'worser' she!” 6 73 GLORIA IN EXCELSIS " For all the boundless universe is life,- There are no dead!”_TENNYSON. R IFLES reversed, the brow depressed, Dread War's first victim we laid to rest ; Muffled drums, the bagpipe's wail, Soothing chants of the nightingale, The thunder of guns, the crashing of steel, Bells never ceasing, death-throes their peal! Dust unto dust! To-day 'tis he; The dawn in its glory may next summon me. Some of us knelt on the blood-hallowed ground, Eager to fight, others stood round; And then of a sudden the bugles awoke, And onward again into battle we broke! When to the beat of the rat-tat-too England's champions their challenge threw, Of a holy mission, the inward light, Thro’the terrors of night reared the vision bright : “A Union of Hearts, the world in accord, Gloria in excelsis, we praise Thee, O Lord!” 74 Europe aflame, of the Grail in quest, War's countless victims we laid to rest ; Some of us knelt on the blood-hallowed ground, Weary of fight, others stood round; A hero is he who nothing fears But the woman's cry in the vale of tears. Europe aflame, dust unto dust; Of hatred the fire, of conquest the gust, The wrath of Satan, the vengeance of Cain, Curses and prayers from the maimed and slain ; To the Heavens uprises a mighty call, “ Gloria in excelsis, Peace to us all!” The voices we heard, the message we blest, And the last of the victims we laid to rest, With myrtle and roses enwreathing the shroud; And foeman and friend, now brothers, all vow'd : “Witchcraft of Hell, we'll break thy foul spell, Gloria in excelsis, of War ring the knell.” 75 THE COVENANT "Pax consequitur libertatem." SPEAK, Herald, speak!” “For Freedom strikes He who defies the beasts of prey that slay And lure the yearning of man's mortal clay From visions bright to terror-smitten woe.” “And have the nations all forsworn the day Of martial greed, the furies' death-stringed bow, The flaming shafts that set the world aglow, The asses' bray, that led our souls astray?” “Did Freedom ever, blessing flesh and mind, Betray her noble task--the ruddy bloom Of fragrant spring that gave sight to the blind ? Unseal the urn, and from the hallowed tomb Shall rise the Spirit to redeem Mankind !” “ Herald,--thy Covenant?"_" The War-lords' Doom!" 76 ON THE FIELDS OF FLANDERS “We who find in Thee the bulwark for the cause of men.” WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. " ' WAS on the fields of Flanders, On the fields drenched with blood and with tears : A thousand cavaliers, Sons of Empire all, Awaited the trumpet call. Sabres flashing, horses neighing, Hearts stout, we rode thro' the rye, , And the sun hung red on the sky, And the air throbbed from the rattle Of Death, in the voices of battle. > 'Twas on the fields of Flanders Saint George in glory appeared, And we neither tarried nor feared, Of Serfdom the chains to shiver, Man's soul from Hell to deliver. 77 'Twas on the fields of Flanders ; And our Colonel the foe defied. Laddie,” said he, “we'll ride; Theirs is the Devil's own wooing, Be ours the Devil's undoing !” And Laddie his trumpet raises, Of Empire and Freedom he sings, And onward a challenge he flings : The spirit of flaming ambition, Perdition its blood-reeking mission! And once more his trumpet he raises, To Victory onward spurr'd ;- Alas! not a sound is heard ; Laddie, his own life giving, Never more calls the living. For the cause he loved he died- Be his the Grace of God; The path of duty he trod, To fight for the sake of others, To fight our foemen, our brothers. 78 'Twas on the fields of Flanders We laid him at eventide ; And the trumpet we placed by his side, On judgment day to call Sons of Empire all ! 79 THE KNOCKOUT BLOW-1917 “The greatest of all feelings is the utter forgetfulness of self.” RUSKIN. a I FEEL as if a minstrel's saintly lore Had carried me to shrines of grace and beauty. My weeping soul hails on a sun-kissed shore The Heaven's blue, and hears thro' cannon-roar An angel's voice reveal Love's hallow'd duty. Faith, sublime Faith, to shape our destiny, Of Truth, the well-beloved, of Hope the mother Faith, sublime Faith, Faith in Humanity, May God grant thee the blessed master-key The heart to open of my erring brother! When from long-smouldering ashes rose the flame, With frenzied tongues a despot's charter claiming, There was no force, 'midst self-engendered fame, Upright and strong to stay the hellish game Of loaded dice, the throw for killing, maiming. 80 Laws made by warriors do but indicate The road to conquest ; 'tis the poor man's labour That moulds the figure of the modern State, Honour's proud shield, a nation's love or hate, Gold-burnished virtue, or a harlot's favour. To conjure up from darkness visions bright Our sons their lives are bravely, gladly giving ; In Freedom's cause England endured the night, At Victory's dawn to hail the kindling light Of Heaven on Earth for all our loved and living. Ye angry races, hear a hermit's call : This is our mission, our supreme occasion, With mild forbearance Mankind to enthrall, Peace to proclaim, a priceless peace for all, And speed its hest from nation unto nation. 81 SWORD AND SHIELD “Vengeance is mine, I will repay, saith the Lord.” Epistle to the Romans. O NE arbiter there is, one only : God! Each feud 'twixt men fresh fecund quarrels breeds; On seeds of fear its vile ambition feeds And turns Love's bloom into a fiery rod. To the abyss War's Aaming chariot speeds, By furies blest, graced by the Devil's nod; On fly the steeds, and fiendish madmen prod Their streaming flanks and curse the voice that pleads. The crime-drunk ogre ruddy furrows draws, Dread spikes spring up-my breast the harvest field, That bears the traces of the ravener's claws. When to my prayer, O Father, wilt Thou yield, Tyrants to awe, to hallow Freedom's cause ?-- Send forth Thy might and shiver Satan's shield! 6 82 REX APOSTOLICUS Louis XIV “L'état c'est moi.”--La France. ") “L E Roi est mort!”—“A King and mortal ? "Glory to him!” “Man's soul he betrayed.” ‘ “Glory to him!” “God's law he unmade." “Before God's altar he knelt and prayed, The angels to bribe at Saint Peter's portal.” *Le Roi est mort !"—the creed is surviving, There is no change; one tyrant has gone, Another succeeds, his heir, his son, That's all, and the world goes on, goes on. The poor remain poor, and the rich are thriving. “ Dei Gratia!" " Was the world created For women to slave, to breed, to obey; For men to quarrel, to plot, and to slay By Royal command; for one man to say Who shall be loved and who shall be hated ?" 83 “ Dei Gratia!" “And what of the Nation, The Nation whose honour the King depraved, The Nation whose freedom the King enslaved ? He would rival the Devil himself, he raved; And the masses cursed him and craved salvation." Dei Gratia! the masses-the masses ? They feast and they drink, joy-bells they ring ; 'Le Roi est mort! vive le Roi!' they sing- The world, my friend, is a circus ring, Few men are wise and the masses are asses. 84 MY KNIGHT “In the wreck of noble lives Something immortal still survives." LONGFELLOW. TWO WO eyes wide open Challenge the night; Hail they the light Of splendours unknown? “Sun, Soul's awakener, Lead on thy golden flight!” My voice from the stillness cried In anguish and fear. A knight rode forth : Man's pride is to fight To love woman's right- I, the woman loved. Two eyes my dreams haunt, Theirs the seal of night, Theirs of things the sight No one living may see. 85 Two eyes closed for ever, Clouded with anguish; Visions bright by the tide Borne out to sea. A knight rode forth, I was his bride; Whom man divide, God will unite. 86 “TÊTE CARRÉE” 9) “Furtum, non exhibitum.” A GALLANT knight-errant of folk-lore fame, Erwin von Steinbach (blessed be his name !), In ‘wunderschön' Strassburg a Minster built : “To the glory of God and man's sacred right, Fealty to guard, for Freedom to fight, And never to crouch before alien might!” Father Rhine, dreaming ʼmongst vine-leaved hills, Blesses the grapes, and a goblet he fills, And he quaffs the beauty of liquid gold : Wunderschön Strassburg, to Thee my song! !" And his love he toasts with a merry ding-dong, And the drink is strong, and the drink is long ! The East drew the sword, the West is ablaze! • Tête carrée' searches his heart and says: “No stranger shall rule my Elsassland !” " And he watches the fight, and Father Rhine Watches him, and whispers, “ Auf ewig Dein!” Tête carrée' smiles : “ Mein Herz ist mein!" 87 OH WHY? Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani ?” He ; E shot me here at Passion-dale ; gave him Sheffield steel; he fell, And so did I who live to tell The tale. ; When I awoke, at dead of night, The moon thro' clouds of thunder's breath On Heaven's brow, to banish death, Shed light; And he was moaning by my side ; His reddened hand he raised to me, And looking through mortality He cried : “ You meant to kill, and so did I ; But why?—for we were meant to love: Just for a king's, a statesman's move ? Oh why?” 88 He died I lived to hear his cry Amidst the screech of shot and shell, Nor can my new days drown his, knell: Oh why?" 89 BEYOND THE SUNSET “Hope withering fled and Mercy sighed farewell."-BYRON. THE 'HE Maiden, her soul serene as the star In lonely grandeur on Heaven's bar, At eventide watches the fallen leaves, The winds that whisper in bracken and sheaves, And of him she thinks who is fighting afar For Country and King !- Overseas the guns are calling, Death in white-winged ships is trawling. The youth still nursing the hatred of wrong, With a flaming heart joined the battle throng, Where freemen of England asserting the right Of the brave and the strong for Liberty fight, And die with a smile and a rollicking song, For Country and King ! Overseas the guns are calling, Harvest rich the nets are hauling. a 90 "O Lord, who art God Almighty, Thou To whom in reverence and awe we bow, Him whom I love take in Thy keep!” On the wings of dread thoughts, a silence deep- Then a blood-red cloud on Heaven's dark brow; For Country and King ! Overseas the guns are calling, Into night a star is falling. 91 DEATH INTO LIFE “The play is the tragedy, Man, And its hero the Conqueror, Worm.” EDGAR ALLAN POE. THE 'HEY killed him in battle; we laid him to rest With deep-warbled anthems, of soldiers the tramp, The neighing of horses, shouts from the camp, The roar of the guns in the flaming west. 'Twas a babel of voices, shell-torn the track, A forest of crosses, rugged and black ! And accursed be he, who hallowed the birth Of War's fierce babe! In blue-vaulted bowers Gleam golden flowers, and a lark showers O'er the weeping Earth sorrow and mirth; 'Tis but a dream, man's cruel strife ; Redeemer Thou,-turn Death into Life! 92 THE KING AM I > ON guard Saint Peter stood. To Heaven's “For this is love, springing out of the very heart of man.” CARPENTER. . gate The call of Death through sulph'rous clouds ascended. The bloom has withered, and the harvest ended ; The soul, from bondage freed, shall meet its fate": Thus spake the voice of God, who straightway sent To bless the good, the evil to perdition; When through the ether rose a gruesome vision, Myriads of souls, in silence Heavenward bent, Who mounted up, forsaken and forlorn, In rank and file, shoulder to shoulder knitted. What fearful crime had they on earth committed, To be in death of cheer and solace shorn? From bayonet, lance, and shot, deep wounds they bear, And shattered limbs. Harrowed the bloodless faces That hint at torture and reveal its traces. Upward they mount in terror and despair. 93 A sharp command—“Halt!”-and the bugles ring ; In crown and purple, with majestic vigour Admission claiming, stands a lonesome figure : “ The King am I, by Grace of God, the King!” " Who are these men ?” “Soldiers who vainly died; “Mine was the crown of victory and glory!” Saint Peter frowns-_" To Satan tell thy story; There is no room in Heaven for thy pride. “ The harvest's withered, fruitless is the tree; The Lord ordained men should love one another; Thou hast corrupted man to slay his brother. The curse of Cain shall ever rest on thee!” A shriek-God's deputy had met his fate ! And then the soldiers broke their ranks and kneeling Their souls surrendered; when their doom revealing, Saint Peter smiled, and opened wide the gate. 94 WHO THE WOOF SHALL WEAVE? “Oh, God! That bread should be so dear, And flesh and blood so cheap!” THOMAS HOOD. WHO THO the woof shall weave?Mute stands the frame That spun the yarn, loosely stretched in the loom The warp lies idle; but the trembling boom The challenge awaits that weaves man's doom, Love's sooth-seeking aim, -Hell's conquering fame. The babe who dreams on his mother's breast A riddle unsolved in the web of life, The youth gaily playing the willow fife, The warrior whose gospel's the glory of strife- God's servants are all, and His sunshine their quest. Let the frame stand mute that spun the thread; Accursed be the hand stretched forth to weave Our hopes into winding-sheets, to relieve The bower of spring of its right, to bereave Body and mind of their daily bread! 95 From the tortured bosom of Faith arise, O Spirit of Love !—the flames dash out Of sin-born War; in prayer devout Rescue the soul from hatred and doubt, Reclaiming on Earth man's paradise. Who the woof shall weave? Who the yarn has spun, And the dormant shuttle to Life he shall shake, And the blood-stained mesh and its patterns break, And a texture with visions of Heaven make For mortals to claim the immortal sun. 96 THE COCK HAS CROWED "C'est plus qu'une crime, c'est une faute.-FOUCHÉ. WHE THEN France, crime-seething, Freedom to betray, With fratricidal knife defied mankind, To goddess Reason swore her soul away, - Then at the frenzied slaves, blaspheming, blind, Sped the fierce hammer of that reborn Thor, Napoleon, at whose feet all Europe crouched : World-conqueror he who chained the Thermidor, Alas! to steep once more mankind in gore. But bloodshed cried to Heaven, and Cæsar's crown Priest-ridden Bourbons grasped with fatuous hands; Humanity, befooled by knave and clown, Her mask remodelled under Jove's stern frown; Then the great uncle's little nephew crushed, Justice bemocking, France's vagrant soul. With glory's chant the voice of Freedom hushed, The Second Empire to perdition rushed. 97 On rolled the years for bleeding tears to fall In the high name of Truth and Liberty; Of Destiny's dread message to forestall, Knights-errant sounded the avenger's call! The East enchained, the West but free in name, Behold the torch that set the world aflame! The cock has crowed, the cross of Christ to shame; Man's frenzied passions play the devil's game. 7 98 THE LION OF WATERLOO “Nought shall make us rue If England to itself do rest but true.” SHAKESPEARE. If F nothing stood on this sin-furrowed Earth But the laurel-decked Lion of Waterloo, Then, God's own mission, wrongs to undo, England could claim, proud of her worth. When at the Frenchified Corsican's fall Tyrants we swept from their maelstrom of strife, Visions were born of a nobler life ;- Is England to-day revoicing the call ? To heart-stricken Europe of Freedom she speaks, The heaven-blessed daughter of Sacrifice; For the sun she prays in glory to rise O'er the promised land which she proudly seeks,- Where power newly born shall fashion the rod That crushes foul idols into the dust; Where the rich and the their trust In the Justice of Man and the Mercy of God. poor alike put 99 “BOUILLABAISSE” “Dead men ye, open the eyes of the living !” CHARLES BRUMM. CRO ROWNED by roseate Morn, Mother Earth, happy and gay, Caressed the babes of May, Bud-blighted flowers new-born, And she dreamt the old, old story Of Love united with Glory. a And then of a sudden there fell A shadow across the feast ; A procession led by a priest From a prison emerged, and a bell Kept tolling, tolling the sentence That defieth the grace of repentance. Man had hated and killed, And laws of the Church and State, Their warrant to vindicate, Condemn him : "His blood shall be spilled. “ Man has the right of life-making, Man has no right of life-taking !" 100 Man to his fate they bade, And the priest chants a something that Sounds like the wail of a cat ; a Guarding the ghastly parade, Lancers ride, pinions streaming, Helmets in sunshine gleaming. Man to the scaffold is sped With an oath, and a snarl, and a kick; And then with a thud and a click Dropped in a basket his head. A sound from the sawdust layer, Lips move,-a curse, a prayer ? Who cares that he swore, that he cried ! For a drink the grim jailers toss, And the loser grins at his loss Homeward the lancers ride, The band plays the Marseillaise- 'Tis the day for Bouillabaisse. ΙΟΙ KARMA “Within the hollow silence of the night I lay awake and listened.” ALFRED AUSTIN. ETE TERNAL, Immortal! Of Death and of Life To end the long strife, At the crystalline portal Of Love's golden shrine Thy message divine I humbly obey; And to Thee I say: May Heaven's pure gladness Humanity robe, And the blood-reeking globe Free from its madness! O Father benign, To us uncondign Grant this rich boon, That War may end soon!” 102 1 LA BELGIQUE “Liber in vinculis."-VEYDER. “M EN of England! J Justice our plea : From thraldom save us, our champions be!” “Who dares make slaves of the Brave and Free?” “ Prussia!" “Save ye from bondage we will; And fire and sword be master, until Liberty's mission we truly fulfil!” Victory gained.—“What now do ye say?" _ “ Brother ne'er brother again shall slay !" “Men of England, welcome that day!" 103 THE PROFITEER "Ad maiorem Dei gloriam.”--Decreta Concilii Tridentini. WAR JAR'S thundering cloud I care not to see; Of its horrors, so-called, I hear only when The Press camouflages, and openly then To well-boomed charities pay I my fee. England, bless her, the dear Magdalen, In her bonnet has always carried a bee; As the honey is mine, 'twere better for me If instead of one she had carried ten! The ropes I knew, and my yarn I span, And the frame now I dress for a Peace homily: Enslave pirate Hun, curb the Teuton clan, His hell-cursed goods from our Empire ban, His breed from our shores, his ships from the sea!- “And who shall rule England ?” Why I am the man ! 104 IN MEMORIAM of the interned “ Bloody Hun,” GEORG BRANDAUER, who committed suicide on the announcement of his repatriation, April 1918. "Fallen, fallen, fallen from his high estate, With not a friend to close his eyes.” DRYDEN. Tº O cut Life's threads when the rushing loom Runes weaves of crime and of shame, Into night to wander, withered Love's bloom, Anguished the soul, 'tis no coward's doom- Tho' Christians give it that name. Till Fate turned the torch on Life's pleasant scene Your shield of honour shone bright; Commerce your well-wishing fairy had been, But hidden behind the luminous screen There brooded the spectres of night. Knight-errant, renowned for generous deeds, You loved the land of your choice; O'er sea you were born, but surely that needs Apology none; for our race still breeds From all stocks its sorrows and joys. 105 Then into the wond'rous mirror of life A thunderbolt suddenly fell, And demons marched forth to deadly strife, And like brigands of yore, with musket and knife, Europe they turned into hell. When, lured by her patrons' relentless chant, Dame D.O.R.A. the firebrand Denounced each Hun as a miscreant, She first interned gave the command : Depart to your native land !” you, then " Depart you did to your native land, The land where right is right, Where e'en Dame D.O.R.A. is impuissant; Life's thread you cut with a fearless hand, To enter the Kingdom of Light. 106 JIM, THE DRUMMER BOY “Soldiers, we must never be beat,--what will they say in England!”- WELLINGTON. IN N Flanders it was, near lace-famed Cambrai; Terrible slaughter the enemy wrought ; We fought in the dawn, at sunset we fought : "Old England for ever!” We stood at bay, When Jim, our drummer boy, lithe and fair, With the jaunty air of the devil-may-care, To the firing-line crept, our duty to share. But the Colonel, a grumpy old soul, says he : “'Tention, my lad, quick march to the rear ! There is no blooming nursery here!” And a tear in his eye, silenced his plea, To the rear marched Jim ; whilst with shot and shell Batteries and tanks and trenches flashed hell, And Death, harpy-footed, sounded the knell. 107 Then a monster crept up, a flame its snout, Its teeth rent the breast of the plain in twain, Its hands and its feet crushed the maimed and the slain; And from throats that shook broke a savage shout! a Terror - stricken we stood, our doom seemed sealed, And our ranks reeled as in the harvest field The sheaves to the scythe of the reaper yield. a But all of a sudden our souls were stirred, A hurrah we heard, and a humming sound Travelled right over the blood-reeking ground: "Steady, boys, steady!” Blessed be the word, Blessed be the sign, and blessed be the beat Of the drum, revoicing of Crécy the feat : “We conquer or die, but never retreat! a 'Twas a motley crowd that rushed from the rear- Poilus and Yanks, Tommies, Jack Tars, With carbines and poniards and grim iron bars. “Steady, boys, steady!” A lusty cheer, And their stand they took, ʼmidst shell and shot, The foe to face. Aye, they feared him not- “Old England for ever!”—they stayed the rot! 108 Aglow his soul, pride mingled with joy, In his ear still the sting of the Colonel's jeer: “ There is no blooming nursery here!”– In front of all marched a drummer boy- “ Boom, boom, rataplan, rubadub, rubadub! The kitchen we left,"left stable and tub, Rataplan, rubadub, old Fritzen to drub!” Our Colonel saluted, when drumsticks up Little Jim his men led o'er the top, And no power the rushing tide could stop. * Boom, boom, rataplan, rubadub, rubadub!” From the red-splashed rye to the blazing sky There rose a cry that enkindled the eye : “Old England for ever! we conquer or die!”— Poor little Jim! He is laid to rest, Where war's fiery chariot onward he sped ; A prayer we said and a tear we shed, And the silent drum we laid on his breast. Then a cross we carved, tiny and prim, And scribbled in ink: “Here lies our Jim!” ” And round the camp-fire we speak of him. 109 And when you are ringing the bells of joy, Don't forget to write on the roll of fame, 'Mongst England's worthies, the humble name Of Jim, little Jim, our drummer boy! And the Colonel now says: "For lads without fear, Death to face with a smile and a cheer, There IS a blooming nursery here!” 1 I10 UNDER WHICH CROWN? > “He giveth his cheek to him that smiteth him.” LAMENTATIONS. "Α RMOURER, what of thy hammer-strokes, Shatter-brained thrown to the flaming sky, By a ravening monster's barbarous cry? Armourer, why do the bugles call ?” “ Vultures are shrieking, the raven croaks, Blood-red the sparks from my anvil fly, Swords I'm forging in battle to ply, That men may die, that empires may fall.” “Padre, why doth thy radiant eye Speak to my soul so tenderly? What is the wond'rous mystery, The saintly Peace, that liveth in thee?” “Mine is the mission of the Most High, Mine is the Gospel of Sacrifice, The prayer for an earthly Paradise Mine is the love of Humanity.” > III LES FRANC-TIREUSES “Still, girl, thy treasure find in faith and love." Lewis MORRIS. WHEN THEN man fights man, with steel-eyed thongs he breaks The gentle charm of heaven-born chivalry, And weeping tears of self-willed agony On chance's lure his bleeding soul he stakes. Stern Destiny has granted woman's soul The festal crown, to guard Love's rose-wreathed torch, Life's course to cheer, to warm, but not to scorch, Our fate to guide to a diviner goal. To weave the threads of gladness is her right, Wrongs to forgive, faith-thrilled to pray, to preach Of Brotherhood the gospel, and to teach With soothing lips the saving grace of light. But woe to her should Mercy she defy, And nurse with blood-stained hands the mystic fire That quickens hate, revenge, suspicion, ire, Foredooming men like bleating sheep to die! > I 12 THE ARGO (To a well-meaning Spinster) “A world unreal, as the shell-heard sea.” EUGENE LEE-HAMILTON. You OU wish to cure our worldly selfishness, Mankind with purer visions to endow, The heart-thrilled youth you censure, and you vow Problems of sex to solve like games of chess. The power of brain of brain you strive to curb, to tame The flame of passion, to direct Love's fate :- A maiden's smile, a rose-wreathed cottage gate, Flouts your philosophy and makes it lame. Wronged motherhood's endowment seems to be Your panacea for Eve's reputed fall; Hot-blooded yearning, lured by nature's call, With scorn defies your sweet-tongued trickery. For ours shall be the Argo's golden fleece ; Bedecked with flowers, a flaming orb its breast, Its shrine we raise, and, true to God's behest, Proclaim the age of Brotherhood and Peace. 113 IN A HOSPITAL WARD "Who will no mercy unto others show, How can he mercy ever hope to have ?” SPENSER. WH CHEN, on God's errand with a cheerful smile, Life's wrecks I see, grief-stricken, anguish- fed, On Fate's dread shore by War's foul passions spread, The fiends I curse who seeds of hatred bred, Empires to shatter, mankind to beguile. How still their forms in sheets of linen white ! E'en whiter shines the face, deep-set the eye That stares in feverish glow, and cannot cry; Mute now the tongue, fear-shaken when the sigh Of red-robed spectres heaves the breast of night. Why tarry, friends ? Call Justice to the tryst. In stately session, of vile rancour freed, Shall man forswear of War the hellish creed, And turn cold steel into a pilgrim's reed, For his redemption through the Love of Christ! 8 114 TEMPORA MUTANTUR–1918 “The world is not sweet in the end, For the old faiths loosen and fall, The new years ruin and rend.” SWINBURNE. L' IBERAL Party's Attorney was he, Briefed to fight Tory Nobility. From landlords and warlords he swore us to free, And with Celtic fervour and energy He garnished his speech with a double D. Blue-blooded and well-rouged Dames were they, Who vowed the “Limehousing Welshman " to slay. And gay Primrose-Knights predicted “ The Day” When the herald of strife in the devil's pay No longer the world would revile with his bray! To-day the Limehousing Welshman” they greet With bumpers of wine, and they wish him God- speed. His stamps they lick; and, though there's no need, For his soul they pray, old Nick to cheat; And in goose-step they march, and kneel at his feet. 115 The Gospel of Christ, war-worn and torn, To our hearts to restore, brave man, he has sworn : Does he think of “The Day,” when the foe forlorn Brotherhood may claim, when Europe, reborn, Her armour unbuckles at Eastermorn? 116 BEFORE GOD “I loved my country and hated him.”_BYRON. - . Two WO hurrying shapes in “ No Man's Land ” Each other faced : Stay! Who are you?” "To my King and my Country staunch and true, On the bugle's call, I took my stand.” “What did you fight for, foeman, say?" “For Freedom I fought, I fought for Right!” “And I fought for the dawn of the day That should break for ever your Empire's might.” “And a priest, a saintly man was he, Before God blest the quest of my sword.” And so did the priest who prayed with me, And he in holiness served the Lord.” But when at the gate of Heaven they stood, Saint Peter said with a smile serene : "Whatever on Earth your fate may have been, Before God you are of one Brotherhood !” ) 117 HOSANNA TO HIM! "Murmured as in a dream, I catch the import of creation.” EDWARD CARPENTER. E YE love-plighted a heaven unfolds, Red the lips, warm, Strong the arm That held a woman as the sword it holds Proves faithful unto death. Drums beat—"Sound the bugle!”—England at bay! Freedom at stake : Men, stand or break! Serve the guns!” “Aye!" And the children pray: "Bless my Daddy, O God!” Night, withered buds, red-breasted a flood, Mute the lips, cold ; And the arm to hold Life's golden goblet holds, wrapped in mud, A lump of clotted blood. 118 Cursed be the forest beast that bawls Into my ear Hatred and Fear! Hosanna to Him who my soul enthralls To serve Love's godly will! 119 THE PROFESSIONAL DIPLOMATIST An Ambassador is an honest man sent to lie abroad for the commonwealth.”-SIR HENRY WOTTON. THI 'HERE where ambition enflames I choose willing slaves; The turbulent veering mob I treat with brow- beating Fools, sweet-tongued, 1 master, and bribe the knaves, Coaxing the Bishops, the Rooks, the Kings, and the Queens, Hoaxing old age, and heart-throbbing life in its teens. Pawns are they all, in my game of lying and cheating Mine not the call for Mercy, for Justice and Right, Chanting of Peace upon Earth the ludicrous prayer; I 20 Hatching my plots, for the Devil's own glory I fight, Hate and Revenge my bloodthirsty mates. At the gates Leading to hell I publish the doom of States, My brother I make my brother's gaoler and slayer. 121 " LA FRANCE LE VEULT!”-1920 “ La recherche de la paternité est interdite.”—Code Napoléon. (“LA A FRANCE le veult!") We heard the ” maddening call In ages when her kings robbed souls and lands: 'Twas urged by regicides' bloodthirsty bands, And by the Corsican whose crimsoned hands (“La France le veult!") Made white-bled Europe crouch his humble thrall. We heard it when degenerate Bourbons ruled, When Cæsar's nephew Jove's fierce eagle tamed, When Communists the new world's statute framed, When Atheists Man's brotherhood proclaimed, (“La France le veult !") When threatened Europe all her manhood pooled. I 22 (“La France le veult!”) Proud England, in that fight, Millions of lives, thy gold, thy amity Thou gav’st : now in the hour of Victory Defend the charter of Humanity! (“La France le veult!") Be hers our will! Do thou what's just and right! I 23 TITLES “Cradled in flame."--EDWARD CARPENTER. KNEW him well. I For England's right, To save the world from the clutch of might, On Freedom's call he entered the fight; No gain he courted, he plotted no scheme, His quest was but a visionary gleam, "For duty and honour"--a beautiful dream! - In to-day's Gazette his name I see : “Killed in action"--R.I.P. a "Thou wouldst do little for God, if the devil were dead.” SWIFT. I KNEW him well. Precocious and wise, Not his was the mission of sacrifice ; England he served—aye, at his price. No danger he challenged, had nothing to fear; For his post of honour was in the rear As army contractor, and profiteer! In to-day's Gazette his name I see: A Knight he is made of the O.B.E. I 24 MISERERE NOBIS, DOMINE 4th August 1918. “Si Dieu n'existait pas, il faudrait l'inventer.”— VOLTAIRE. PLEDGING EDGING the Empire's endurance and might, God for our guide, crusaders we fight, Freedom to guard and the people's right. 'Tis four years to-day that the sword we drew, Justice and truth to defend anew : Has England e'er failed to see things through? Angel of Mercy, pilgrim forlorn, Love's wondrous charter is tattered and torn, Terrors of Hell upon Earth are reborn; Storm-winged the night, Death stands at bay; On thunders the battle! “See'st thou the ray Of the roseate dawn? Say, brother, say." · Let the soul lament, let the body bleed : Honour we plighted in word and in deed, And fight we will till we crush the creed Of the strong the weak to enslave and flay! Slay, brother, slay!—Pray, brother, pray, To Heaven's great God for the dawn of day!' 125 J'ACCUSE! " Treason never prospers: what is the reason? For if it prospers none dare call it treason.” JOHN HERRINGTON. A PACK of wolves from their lair descend, Breathing defiance to foe and to friend. But there is another pack out for prey, , And the two packs meet, each other to slay. And then the biggest beast of them all Steps in and snarls, a truce to call. I forbid you to fight, and by right divine As brothers I hail you, for ever mine!” And Humanity blesses the saintly deed That the Earth for ever from strife has freed. And now the two packs are kept at drill, By the big brother's order, their brothers to kill. I 26 RESURRECTION “L'histoire n'est que le tableau des crimes et des malheurs.” VOLTAIRE. IMPERIOUS Rome, to thee dread laws dictate God's chosen tribes, wild chants they hurl of Hate At the Redeemer, Him who makes man's fate A quest of Love. . And since for us He died, to Peace ordained And Brotherhood, Rome has in glory reigned, And mind and body to her chariot chained The Holy Church. War-proud, to compass Fame's accursèd crown Life's torch man trims, and with a hideous frown Shakes it to flame, its spirit but to drown In Hell's abyss. Rent is the veil, the soul cries anguish-torn, “Hast Thou forsaken me, O God?” Sin-born, Love-lorn, the stricken Earth prays for the morn, The Eastermorn. I 27 FAITH Religion is the voice of reverence, the voice of human pity.” JOHN MORLEY. WE listen to the Bishop's unctuous sermon ; Of brotherhood, goodwill, and peace we chant; We kneel before the great Redeemer praying, And we condemn our foes' unchristian cant. Our souls are whitewashed ev'ry Sunday morning; On Monday, cosy in our chairs we read That Thousands have been slain-God bless the slayers ! And Thousands more to kill, our guns we feed. And Kings and Statesmen, Priests and Politicians, Still dare this hideous gospel to applaud. My friend, who knows the minds of those above us? Perhaps they think our Christian creed a fraud! 128 TWO ROADS " "Faut tirer le diable par le queue.”—Romain Rolland. IFE has two roads, study them well ; The one leads to Heaven, the other to Hell. Where do you wish, my friend, to dwell ? L Avoid the bridle-path, stony and steep, Where cranks and reformers their revelry keep. In ease and pleasure your harvest reap! Yours is the world; for the wizard of old, The master of man, all doors to unfold, The unrivalled power of gold you hold ! ! And the moment you raise that magic key, Thro' the flash and the dash of its sorcery, To your service rushes Society ! My Lord and my Lady, Sir Knight and his Dame, In a halo of virtue or gilded shame, All eager and proud are to play your game. a I 29 But shun the rabble that toils on the road, That maunders of Christ and the brotherhood code, Bemoaning the sins of this earthly abode. And should you desire a title to gain, That magic key will your mission ordain; Pay down your cash, and never complain. Vanity's fee is £ s. d., And, once gazetted, your dignity To fatuous kinsmen a boon may be. For His Majesty's grace is the gilded pill Which gives all our jobbernowls such a thrill, And the wishes of tuft-hunters helps to fulfil. And still, when old age sounds the curfew bell, The Church will invoke her motherly spell To bless your journey--whither? 9 130 SPIRIT DIVINE “One to destroy is MURDER, by the law, And gibbets keep the lifted hand in awe; To murder thousands takes a specious name- War's glorious art--and gives immortal fame." YOUNG. SPIRI PIRIT Divine, aflame is the world! Red roses, green myrtle, and lilies white, A bower framed in Love's golden light, When a blight fell from Heaven, the earth shook in fright, And the spectres of wrath threw their torches alight With hate, and Man cursed. “ Black-browed from cavernous heights flew Death, As the land slept in silence ;- who sounded the call To arms? Where the sea-waves rise and fall, In their millions they gathered, knights-errant all, And of ghosts and of corpses they built a wall,”: “What to guard ?” "Spirit Divine, aflame is the world! Young hearts dream no longer, Love's spring is dead, 131 Vultures are feeding in pastures red, Men and women by statecraft led To the horrors of famine and plague are sped, Hell is let loose.” “Sisters of Fate, the Lord made man His image to be; in his soul He set Heaven's own seeds, and, blessing his state, Created for him the love of a mate; And the harvest, you say, is murder and hate? Man I curse!” Thus spake the Spirit Divine. And man? Man buries the dead, an endless line, Man bends his knee at the holy shrine: Virgin immaculate, Mother benign, Glory to Thee, rich loot is mine : Thanks!—Hallelujah!” The Sisters of Fate their message gave, And the thunder of battle rolls on, rolls on, Over empires shattered, lives woebegone; What the Soul had won the flesh has undone, And Revenge shall pass from father to son ;- Feed the guns! 132 FAITHFUL AND TRUE “Life is given to us, we earn it by giving it.” RABINDRANATH TAGORE. A T Freedom's clear call the sword we drew; Not for conquest we fought, nor for domin- ance new; To the cause we adopted our hearts were true ! From tortured worlds for ever to sweep Tyrants who made our mothers weep, And our sons the harvest of Peace shall reap! Trance, thou mad trance of the living clay, That schemed the Spirit of Christ to betray, Broken thy spell, thy mask torn away! 133 BRITISH MASONIC BROTHERHOOD “He is a freeman, whom the truth makes free."-BYRON. BEJEWELLED, white - gloved, browbeating Pageantry, passwords, a drink, and a wring! Heathen rites, and the old Jewish sting : Master Cock crows-silence the hen! “ Peace upon Earth!” The challenge you fling, Hackling and cackling from pen to pen, Bloodcurdling oaths you are swearing, and then Kissing each other, brothers, you sing : “Charity, Truth, and Amity Ever our task be.” Joy-bells ring. Friends, you blaspheme the Divinity Grand Lodge ordained to keep bellowing: “English Masons of Hun pedigree- Pooh!—we taboo! God save the King !' " 134 FREEMASONRY “There is only one religion, though there are a hundred versions of it.”G. BERNARD SHAW, THE 'HE world one brotherhood, Grand Master : God! Thee, the great Architect, humbly I hail ; A seeker of truth, my sin I bewail; In penance I bow, kissing the rod! Where Churches and States in their charters fail, Theirs is the thunder of shell and of shot; But War I denounce as a barbarous plot, To lure us away from the quest of the Grail. May the pledge be kept, to treasure, to cheer, To love, through rapids of doubts to ford, No man to hate, and no man to fear, And for ever to sheathe the ravenous sword! By all that is holy to me and dear, May the pledge be kept,-so help me, O Lord! 135 FATHER OF MAN "One Will, one Hand, one all-regarding Eye, Surveys and governs all."--Lewis MORRIS. THO JOU hast breathed into me the Love of Light, Of dreams, of wonder tales, which thro' the night With hope-winged force should steer the quiver- ing wheel Of Destiny; fired by Thy Godly Might My heart I steeled 'gainst Hatred's fierce appeal. Wrung with the wounds which kill not, but ne'er heal, Their part in War signed with a fiery seal, Martyrs have built on empires' dust a dome Where love-pledged priests shall preach the common weal, The boundless world to be a brothers' home. Clear from Life's fount, miraculous and old, When over unborn worlds the thunder rolled, Thy Grace shall rise to still mad Europe's feud; Shall in sublime array new survey hold, And bless our souls with saintly hope endued. 136 The dawn has silenced battle's clamouring cry And bids us hope. Dread phantoms hide. The eye Love's mission hails, nobly to nurse, to guide Humanity, until in shame shall die The hellish progeny of Fratricide. 137 TRANSLATED AND RHYMED FROM A DEAD PRUSSIAN SOLDIER'S DIARY . By this we know That our earth falls asunder, being old.” DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI. A SOLDIER they made me, by King's command into bondage they threw My youth; withered the bloom, blood-tinged the once sun-kissed dew; And into shame and hatred grew the flame of my wrath when I knew My mate to a harlot's trade they had driven by decree of the State : Spirit of Love, dead now in me, why for me this fate? A soldier I, millions like me whose unscathed will Muted and curbed, with limbs enchained in the treadmill of drill. And the Soul?-In Prussia, that casket of godly bequest counted nil. 138 And the oath they forced me to swear.–Curse me, O Lord !-I spilled My brother's blood with bayonet and shot, passion- swayed I killed. weep and A cripple I, at Life's golden gate now I pray For the free-born day when my kin, no longer in battle array, Recruits are inflaming in national shambles each other to slay. Does love-kindling woman bear child in combat to live, and in thrall ? - Peace is the birthright of Man, for Christ gave His life for us all! 1 139 CLEMENCEAU * Virtute, non Ferocia.”-FORBES. ) "TIGE ") IGER”--the world knows his name, To throttle the “Boche" is his game, “ Whilst England applauds the romance And panache of resurgent France. “ Tiger” they christened him when, In the Commune's gory den Of the blood-nursed seventy-one, Fratricide's laurels he won. Will history hallow his fame, Forget his commands to maim, To maul, to torture, to play With his victim, before he slay? To torture, thank God! is not England's way; With a troubled heart she yearns for the day When war-racked, love-lorn Humanity Shall from the scourge of War be free. 140 We gave of our treasure, our blood we gave, And our dearest ones to an unknown grave, To dictate no peace that revenge restarts; Not Empires to conquer; to conquer hearts ! Victory, O Lord, for the people's cause ! Chain up the tyrants who break Thy laws, Create a New World for the meek and good, For believers in Thee and Man's brotherhood ! 141 WE DARE-1915 “For a' that and a' that.”- ROBERT BURNS. “Α MORT le Boche!” shrieks he of Montmartre, Who of old acclaimed the Communist Charter, And now rules “Marianne" with a wizard's rod, With a phrase and a smile, with a frown and a nod. The creed of his life? An avenging God! )) “A mort le Boche! By sword and starvation Redeem 'La Lorraine and free the Alsatian!” "To reconquer the Reichsland-millions must die!” ” “ 'Tis for Liberty's sake!” Aye, we cheer the cry, Obey the Ally, and the foe defy. On the fields of Flanders to Victory speeding, Valiant Saint George our manhood is leading : “As of yore I clipped the spurs of the cock, ' So I'll now break the wings of the hell-born flock, Vultures accursed, that Humanity mock.” 142 Fight on! Fight on! Though our hearts are burning, Our spirit from tears to smiles is turning ; Who cares whether fox and cock and bear Be true to the covenant or forswear ? Old England for ever! Fight on!—We dare ! 143 MORITURI TE SALUTANT “ Visions of glory, spare my aching sight; Ye sin-born ages, crowd not on my soul.” GRAY. WE E buried him where we had found him dead, The Padre muttering a dirge or two, And a handful of rain-sodden clods I threw On his body; gently I covered his head With the foulard which, blood-drenched and torn, Love's pledge, on his heart he had worn. The harrowing shrieks of battle were hushed, To their feast the worms were creeping; the sun A web of glittering gold had spun, Wreathing the clouds that nightward rushed; And on the brink of that lone grave I sat to think, my soul to save. My friend he had been since our toddling feet Took step, life's golden spring to seek; My friend since I learnt my prayer to speak, 144 At marbles to play, and the story to read: Friend, what dire wrong hast thou wrought? Friend, who is it has thee sought? In the whirlwind of passion man dreams of fame; But the subtle rings of a tangled coil His life entwine till he falls a spoil To the idols of Faith or a bigger man's game. Friend, so was it, I know, with thee- Friend, so surely with me it will be ! 145 CHRISTIANS, DEAR BRETHREN, ARE WE “In atoms shall fall the earthly ball One day like the Luck of Edenhall.” UHLAND. IGHT, flashes of light, moon-wreathed the tide, Storm-pinioned the sea; Corpses and burning cities their guide, Demons of Hell to battle ride- "Christians, dear brethren, are we.” NG Will ever again the Heavens gleam O'er a sun-kissed sea, That flowers may bloom, and Love may scheme, That of Life's full harvest men may dream?- -- “ Christians, dear brethren, are we.” Death is the fisher with red nets spread, Storm-pinioned the sea; Kin murders kin, on Hatred fed ; Man damns man, alive or dead, Christians, dear brethren, are we.” IO 146 12TH AUGUST 1918 (IN THE HIPPODROME) “The night is far spent, and the day is at hand.” Epistle to the Romans. I HAVE swallowed the twaddle of statesmen galore, Castelar I have heard, and Gambetta ; the fire Of eloquent Italy and the rude art Of home-spun rhetoric have stirred my heart. From mortal lips, ah! never before Such torrents poured forth of pathos and ire; With sledge-hammer blows and thrusts of the dart Supremely you voiced the patriot's part! In royal Egypt the priesthood kept Of subjects' speeches a special gazette ; At a man's death a feast was spread, And his life was judged as his speeches read. a We English invert the ancients' plan : When a man is dead, in peace let him rest; 147 But we encourage him freely to play The game of humbug during his day. A demagogue, political life you began, And war you cursed with a flaming breast; With a flaming breast now you lead the way a To victory in the world's great fray. a And may He who granted you power to make The gilded pillars of Statecraft shake, Choose you the fetters of thraldom to break, Freedom to win for Humanity's sake! 148 DOGGIE MINE *Wraps me in a most humourous sadness."-SHAKESPEARE. O'E 'ER the hills I walked, Of May's golden dream I talked To Doggie mine. The butterfly courted the flower, The thrush from a rose-leaved bower Chanted sweet calls. And the clouds wove pictures strange, Pictures that roved and changed Like a woman's humour. a What's wrong with the world, what's right ?- - Voices and visions of night Torment my soul. 149 The War's great tragedy, Horrors on land and sea, Cry to the Heavens! Damned be the statesmen who ruled, Damned be the princes who fooled Christianity! Why hate, why maim, why kill, Why pray for “ The Day”?—why fill Old Earth with corpses? Ours was the land of the free: Where now is our liberty, Englishman's faith? Buried in Saxon guile, Buried in Latin wile, Unmourned, forgotten. We were ordered to fight-we fought; No questions we asked, feared nought.- And the soul? 150 Who bothers about the soul ? Chuck the carcase into a hole- a Rataplan, duck under!” Rataplan, won't there some day Be somewhere the Devil to pay, O Doggie mine? But Doggie mine sighed, and said : “Good master, the case, I'm afraid, Is much beyond me.” ۱) And Doggie mine hung his tail When I called for a pot of ale At the "Spotted Ox.” As I stood them a round or two, Like hyænas at the Zoo The yokels chuckled. But when of the War I spoke, They were as dumb as a moke: “No politics, please!” 151 Then Doggie mine scratched his head; Maybe he thought of the dead Who fought for Freedom. Over the hills I walked ; Of things that may happen I talked To Doggie mine. “Que la France marche à la tête de la civilisation. Nous suivrons.”_GENTZ. 153 LE TAMBOUR BAT “La grande nation.”—GÉNÉRAL BONAPARTE. Dº U bronze en feu la foudre échappe, - Une auréole monte aux cieux, Le tambour bat, le tocsin frappe, O Liberté, toi fille des Dieux! Justice, inspire sa parole ; Egalité, rends-toi Seigneur ; Que notre immortelle idole, L'Amour, rayonne dans son cœur. Chers frères, que les barrières S'abaissent à jamais. Notre cri? Navrés des malheurs de la guerre, Ecrasons l'infâme tyrannie! Gardiens d'un sublime héritage, Entonnons le clairon vainqueur ; En rendant aux morts notre hommage, Renonçons à l'appel vengeur. 154 Du succès n'abusons pas en laches, Et que de l'amour le flambeau Eclaire une France sans tache, Glorieux modèle des héros. Plus de craintes, plus de sabres Alétris ! Les pleurs de notre reconnaissance, Amis, ennemis, la patrie ?- Des nations la sainte alliance ! 155 BON PÈRE À TOUS Qui mange du Pape, en meurt.”---ALEXANDRE VI. JA 'AI rêvé du bon Dieu, parmi ines souvenirs Une voix dont en vain je cherche à me défendre, Jusqu'au fond de mon ceur semble se faire entendre, Tarissant mes larmes, bénissant mes soupirs. Seigneur, que Vos grandes vérités m'inspirent, Leurs flammes s'abaissant dans mon âme de preux, Que des hommes massacrés le cri monte aux cieux, Pour guérir nos souffrances, nos passions attendrir. A vous, tueurs de charité, le gage! La chaîne au cou, terrible et sinistre spectacle Des êtres par milliers, martyrs de la débâcle, Du glaive de Justice implorant l'héritage! 156 Dans les ténèbres mystiques de la mer, en l'air, sur terre, Vous faites couler des torrents de sang, Vous adorez au temple un fétiche insolent, Le succès de la force, l'amour de la guerre. Héros libérateurs, notre mission à nous : Effaçons à jamais les pas du fratricide, Ramenons le paradis parmi ce vide ... J'ai rêvé de Dieu, bon Père à tous. 157 SOUVENIR DE MONTMARTRE-1918 “Alouettes rôties.”—Fabliau de Coquaigne. A H! mill ventrebleu! Un honteux servage, ’ La guerre, notre guerre, foutue la noblesse? Ah! non, mon ami, vive mon esclavage, C'est pour la France, mon amour, ma Déesse ! “Pas à nous de traître, pas à nous de maître ! Que le Boche, sale bête, crève de faim! La France ne vénère qu'un seul suprême être : Clemenceau, le héros républicain.' >) “ Mais puisque la flamme aux victoires s'élance, Mon âme demande à sa clarté : Mon frère, trouveras-tu dans la vengeance L'aurore immortelle de la Liberté ?” 158 LA DÉESSE LIBERTÉ. “Nous dansons sur un volcan."-SALVANDY. O SOUVENIR sacré qui regrette l'été, Ramène en mon esprit la joyeuse jeunesse, Aux sereines vertus redonne ta tendresse, Déesse anime-moi, ô rends-moi ta caresse, Toi dont la magie fait tressaillir la clarté. Parmi les pleurs, les triomphes, les cris, les rires, La trombe des combats, de ton horizon d'or, Tu flagornes la mort; et ton appel sonore D'amour fraternel, la triomphante aurore, Des droits humains n'ont-ils rien à me dire ? O bonne Madone, altière et noble Liberté, Fille des Dieux, accorde-moi ton feu vivant. Muette et détournant ton front indifférent, Tu vas, l'épée en main, et l'ail étincelant. O bonne Madone, m'as-tu donc oublié? 159 Mangeons notre pain, buvons notre vin, Ni lâche, ni héro, des troupeaux vicieux ; La justice bernée, à l'autel pas de Dieu ; Honteux de nos crimes, malheureux, hideux, Du sublime idéal,-apaches-assassins. 160 PRIÈRE D'UN BULGARE-1919 “L'ordre règne à Varsovie.”—SEBASTIANI. RºT Ol, messager de mort, pour qui seul le canon Et le son des fanfares parlent, laurier au front, O caur sinistre de serpent, ton infamie Réduit en débris ma malheureuse patrie : Regarde tous ces cadavres mutilés, Pourrissant dans les champs, oubliés, méprisés ! O sombre recruteur des ombres! la Justice, Tu la violes et tu flétris ma nation ; Tu flétris notre honneur, notre gloire et ton nom. Que retombe à jamais sur toi notre supplice! O Seigneur, donnez-nous au ciel Le bonheur éternel! Sur le funèbre lit, les soupirs de la terre Etouffent les foudres assoupis de la guerre; Ah, mortels éperdus, tous les hommes sont frères,- Tout s'efface, tout fuit, tout passe ; Égarée dans les champs de l'espace, 161 Brisée au néant d'infamie, L'âme, à demi raffermie, Où retrouvera-t-elle sa vie ? Et l'honneur, Et la terre promise et l'éternelle fleur, Loin des væux de vengeance et des bourreaux des vices, La vision d'amour, les espoirs, les délices ?- O Seigneur! donnez-nous au ciel Le bonheur éternel. II 162 POURQUOI PAS? “Furia francese.” O N dit que les Nègres gardent à Francfort- Et le Boche et le Noir poussent du même ressort- Le berceau de Goethe,--puisqu'il est mort, Pourquoi pas ? On dit que Charlemagne “né à Aix-les-Bains - Qui gagna pour la France l'Alsace et le Rhin” Fut empoisonné par leurs sales crûs de vins- Pourquoi pas ? On dit que l'Allemagne a inauguré Le vol en Europe-quel compte à régler, A votre gré, Monsieur Foch, dictez le brevet ! Pourquoi pas ? On dit que les guerres sont finies à jamais; Qu'on fasse donc le Russe et le Polonais Nos alliés chéris, gardiens de la paix ! Pourquoi pas ? 163 Chargez vos fusils, subjuguez l'ennemi, Etouffez ses soupirs, ses prières et ses cris, Enchaînez son esprit, maîtrisez même sa vie, Pourquoi pas ? La grande révolte un jour se fera, Ecrasez les infâmes et les têtes en bas !” Eh bien, mon ami, que diras-tu à cela ?- Pourquoi pas ? 164 CHAUVIN PARISIEN A LA “GROSSE BERTHA" “Öte-toi de là, que je m'y mette."-PANANTI. TRI RIPLE sacrebleu! quelle voix brutale et grossière : La force est ton droit et tu t'en sens fière, Âme damnée! A Dieu vont mes prières, A mon pays ma richesse et mes preux, A l'humanité mes soupirs et mes væux. La France est sans peur, elle garde dans le caur D'un passé vaillant le legs : son honneur. Bravache des apaches, lâche, assassin, L'addition S.V.p. Boche toi, Hun, tiens, Brute, zut, je t'aurai à la fin. Mes morts, mes blessés, ma haine, mes larmes,- Ah! Debout la France et gloire à nos armes ! L'addition s.v.p. à moi ta proie : à L'Alsace, la Lorraine! . . . et Cambronne à toi ! . 165 CHANTECLER RÉFORMÉ . ? ? “Allons, enfants de la patrie.”- ROUGET DE LISLE. J'ES 'ENTENDS la trompette guerrière ; Salut paradis enchanté Par la gloire de la liberté, Autel de mes væux, de mes prières ! “Chers frères, aux morts nos larmes, Aux vivants du bon Dieu l'esprit ! Le monde entier notre patrie, Chers frères, rengaînez nos armes! J'entends le clairon du grand jour Et l'âme de l'Humanité, Comblée d'une joyeuse fierté, Exhale le parfum d'amour. J'entends la joyeuse cadence : C'est à la tendresse de jeunesse, Que la vindicative vieillesse Va céder le sceptre de la France ! “They have all been very kind to me here. But this would I say, standing as I do in view of God and Eternity: I realise that Patriotism is not enough. I must have no hatred or bitterness against anyone.”—EDITH CAVEll on the eve of her execution. 167 DEM SCHWESTERPAAR: ALBION, GERMANIA “Then our great Kinsman, heart and mind; Then, if God will, Mankind.”—LEWIS MORRIS. (Reprinted from the Author's “ Michel Lieder," second edition, published 1895.) NACH ACH Väterart im Wandertrieb Schau haltend über Meer und Land, Zum Port kürt' ich der Freiheit Strand ; Und also kam's, dass hier ich blieb. Und also kam's, dass hier ich fand Die zweite Heimat, traut und lieb Der ich mein Bürgerrecht verschrieb, Die meines Herzens Klang verstand; Die nun mit frohem Mund giebt Kund! Dem waffenstarrn'den Erdenrund Von zweier Völker Freundschaftsbund! Und ist die Wundermähre wahr- So segne Gott Dich Schwesterpaar, Weltfriedens Hüt'rin immerdar! 168 DEUTSCHLAND "Il ne faut jamais livrer la patrie à un homme, n'importe l'homme, n'importent les circonstances.”—THIERS'Histoire du Consulat et de l'Empire. > (Reprinted from the Author's “ Symphonie Pathétique,” October 18, 1914.) DEUTSCHLAND, -einst im Glanz der Siege Die Gewaff und Geist errungen Ernster Arbeit sonn’ge Wiege, D'ran der Völker frohe Zungen Ihr Hosiannah dargebracht,- Morgenröthe, Lenzespracht! Gross an Zielen einst und Pflichten, Die wir Menschen liebreich pflegen, Gross an Denken einst und Dichten, Zu erwecken Frieden's Segen Einer freiheitsfreud’gen Welt, Die ihr Heil auf Gott gestellt ! 169 Dunk'len Flugs die Raben kreisen, Und der Nornen Weisen schallen : “ Was erbaut durch Blut und Eisen Soll durch Blut und Eisen fallen, Fallen was in Sünd' und Lug Schwertes Recht als Wahlspruch trug.” Preussen's Junkerthum sich brüstet, Will die Welt in Fesseln schlagen; Und die Welt zum Kampf sich rüstet, Will nicht Preussen's Fesseln tragen, Will nicht werben Geistes Frohn, Will nicht erben Knechtes Lohn. Michel, grauser Lust Du tödtest, Was nicht Feind Dir je im Leben, Und der Erde Brust Du röthest Bis der Rache Geister weben Menschenzorn zu Himmelsfluch, Deines Reiches Leichentuch ! Lasst die Toten uns begraben, Die da leben werden richten ; 170 Und was wir zu sagen haben Soll kein fürstlich' Machtwort schlichten ; Aug' um Auge, Zahn um Zahn, Bis zerstört der Zollern Wahn! Und wenn Sieges Preis errungen, Recht und Sitte unser eigen, Wenn des Kampfes Ruf verklungen, Wenn des Hasses Lieder schweigen, England soll, das Land der Frei'n, Frieden's treuer Hüter sein! 171 WEIHNACHTEN-1914 My Christmas-Card sent to German Friends “ The Brave only know how to forgive. A Coward never forgave, it is not in his nature."-LAURENCE STERNE. NIE IE seit in den Kämpfen der Barbaren Mit den Erben römischer Kultur, Auf Italien's sonnenheller Flur Sieger und Besiegte beide waren, Todesmut'ger stieg zu Gott der Schwur : Im Geleucht der Waffen wir uns schaaren Ein Gesetz der Welt zu offenbaren Dessen Ordnung Recht und Freiheit nur!” Weihnacht, traute, stille, heilge Nacht Bis die Losung : “Hasse und vernichte,” Tück'schen Geist's den Feuerstoss entfacht. Herr, Allvater, Rufer's Sünde richte Und wenn siegreich England's Werk vollbracht Gnäd’ger Huld der Menschheit Irrgang lichte. 172 “MISSA PRO DEFUNCTIS" E IN Wand'rer ich, auf Gottes stillen Wegen Gebroch'nen Aug's, im Westen sinkt die Nacht; Die Herzen auf, der Morgen ist erwacht! “Allvater mein, des Lichtes hehre Pracht Leg mir auf's Haupt und gieb mir Deinen Segen.” Fürbass ich zieh', Gedanken mir Genossen; Wie schön die Welt und werth ein Mensch zu sein, Der Seele Kraft dem Dienst des Herrn zu weih'n, Zum Janustempel tragen Stein auf Stein Auf dass auf ewig er uns bleib' verschlossen! Roth Röslein prunkt und bräutlich steh’n die Bäume, Die Lerchen singend auf zur Wolke zieh'n, Es rauscht ein Quell im schatt'gen Waldesgrün ;- Glücklich der Tag, welch' Leuchten, Singen, Blüh'n, Ein Glöcklein tönt und segnet mein Geträume. 173 Glücklich der Tag! Weh' mir, es es 'zürnt der Himmel ! Ein mächt’ger Ruf der Lüfte Klarheit füllt, “Sein Schicksal sei, wie's sünd'gen Geist's gewillt Der Mensch !” Die Gottheit sprach's und durch's Gefild Furchtbaren Schalles wogt der Schlacht Getümmel. ) - Allvater mein, mich fasst ein tiefes Grausen, Glücklich der Tag ? Trügt mich ein böser Traum ? Wo Liebe koste, gähnt ein Wüstensaum, Es flammt die Wolke, blutroth sprüht der Schaum Der wilden Wasser und die Winde brausen.- Ich seh' das Auge hohl und starr der Meinen, Ich hör' das schrill Getön' gezückter Wehr'; Vom Altar hehr, verkünden Hasses Mähr Mit Feu'r und Schwert Barbaren, liebeleer; Die Hölle jubelt und die Engel weinen. - Ein Wand'rer ich, zieh' sanglos durch die Lande, Wie schön in Frieden's Brautkranz war'st Du Welt! Verblüht Dein Lenz, die Distel prunkt im Feld ;- Den Totenacker nur hat Gott bestellt Uns Menschen all’n zur Busse und zur Schande. 174 1915 Apologia pro vita sua.”_CARDINAL NEWMAN. ES S rauscht der Wald, ein zaub'risch Klingen zieht, Gleich Liebeslocken zitternd durch die Weite; Die Erde träumt, der Friede Gottes blüht, Da braust vom Himmel Sturmes flammend Lied- Europa's Völker wappnen sich zum Streite! Der böse Geist, der Frohn und Vehm einst schuf An neuen Qualen will den Sinn ergetzen; Frohlockend schallt des wilden Jägers Ruf, Zur Wolke fliegt der Rappen feur'ger Huf, Die Hörner schmettern und die Rüden hetzen. Mir Deutschgebor'nem dreut der Meute Wuth; Wie Habgier einst verlästert die Semiten, Wie welsch' Gelüst' getränkt die Welt in Blut, Des Pöbels Hass auf meinem Haupte ruht, Und Raben krächzen, wo die Beter knieten. 175 Mein Recht? Der Bürgerbrief! Ich schwor den Eid Ein freier Mann in freier Männer Mitte ; Zu Freud' und Leid vor Gottes Thron ich weiht Dem neuen Heim der Muse Feierkleid, Der Arbeit Ernst, des Wandels Brauch und Sitte. Der Erde fremd, d’rauf meine Wiege stand, Ein halb Jahrhundert all mein Denken, Streben Dir gab ich's England! Strafe Gott die Hand, Die sich erfrecht zu schneiden in das Band, Das mich verknüpft mit Deinem Lieben, Leben! 176 SIEGESFEST “What is man? A beast, no more."-SHAKESPEARE. DAS AS Dampfross keucht, die Pfeife schrillt, Aus Berges tiefem Schacht Ein langer, dunkler Schatten quillt, Und Funken sprühn,-ein Geisterbild Fleucht durch's Geträum' der Nacht. Von fern Getön der Völkerschlacht, Daheim der Schrei nach Brod' ;- Lichtlos der Zug, stumm seine Fracht, Die Pfeife schrillt, die letzte Wacht Hält grimmer Freud' der Tod. Wohl an die tausend Leiber trägt Das Gleis zum Feuerstoss ; Was Satanas zusammenfegt, Der Mensch in Bündel niederlegt,-- Kadaver, namenlos. 177 Verzerrt die Züge, starr die Hand Die einst das Schwert geführt Für König und für Vaterland, Der Arm mit einem här'nen Band Dem Rumpfe angeschnürt.— Die Pfeife schrillt; auf, Schnitter Tod Bring ein die Ernte Dein! Zerfetzt Gebein, Fleisch blutigroth; Der Priester harrt, die Esse loht “Nun schmeisst den Quark hinein!” Ein kurz Gebet, es ist vollbracht, “ Der Seele Gottes Fried'!” — Die Nacht verbleicht, der Morgen lacht; Schwing' Dich empor zur Himmelspracht, Du meiner Sehnsucht Lied ! Schau Bruder, schau, wie fein und schlau Der Teufel treibt sein Spiel ; Reich mir die Hand, trau, Bruder trau, Dann rüsten wir im Weltenbau Der Eintracht hold' Asyl.” 12 178 “Reich Dir die Hand, Feind, sei mir Freund, Die Wehr lass uns zerhau'n, Die Herzen auf, die Sonne scheint, Wir wollen treusam und vereint Den Frieden Gottes bau'n!” 179 BEICHTE Plus ibi (apud Germanos) boni mores valent, quam alibi bonæ leges.”—Tacitus. ZÜRI ÜRNENDER Himmel! Dumpfrollend ver- hallend Sturmes Schwinge rauscht durch die Eichen ; Rasender Menschen Feuerzeichen Sprüht durch's Gewölk und Würmer schleichen An stinkenden Leichen träge sich mästend. Ein hölzernes Kreuz am Walde steht ;- Wer sprach zum Wand'rer : Bruder säume? Wer grub das Grab unter'm Hang der Bäume, Dass in Allmutter Erde er träume, Derweil in Flammen Europa aufgeht? “ Und zög' Jesus Christus selber durch's Land Frieden und Eintracht der Welt zu verkünden, Der Hölle wir würden uns lieber verbünden, Auf ewig zu büssen für unsere Sünden, Als dem Feinde in Demuth zu reichen die Hand.” 180 Leuchtender Himmel! Erhebe zur Sonne Singendes Vöglein die schimmernden Schwingen! Leise, gar leise durch's Herz zieht ein Klingen, - Will's vom Allvater die Botschaft mir bringen : “Kinder mein, Brüder Ihr, liebet einander?” 181 TRAUERSTILLE “If a man should give up all, it is as nothing." --DEAN FARRAR. WE IE Roma einst gehalten streng Gericht Den Völkern Juda’s im gelobten Land, Also dem Preussentum, Gewaff in Hand, Europen’s Vehm ihr flammend' Urteil spricht. , Im Maienglanz die Menschheit Kränze wand Der deutschen Kraft, dem Geiste fromm und licht, Der Wahrheit pries als Leben's höchste Pflicht Und in Idealen seine Grösse fand. - Im Herbstesgrauen,-Mord und Lug und Trug, Der Gottheit Rechtsspruch und der Erde Fluch, Raubgier'gen Ruf's der Geier schwarzer Zug. - Und wieder lacht der Frühling, Glocken schallen !-- Dass auf die Gräber meine Thränen fallen, Vereint wir woll'n zum heil’gen Graale wallen. 182 DAS LIED VOM HASSE “The greatest foe of Liberty is not the tyrant, but the contented slave.”—MAZZINI. SCHU CHUSS gab ich für Schuss! Es rollte vom blitzenden Mund der Gewehre Stygischer Donner! Müde des Mordens sank mir der Arm. Morgenroth! Wiehernde ! Wiehernde Rosse; Tamboure schlagen Alarm; Rauschende Eichen, stürzende Menschen, dass Gott sich erbarm', Kreuz Du am Waldsaum! Liebet einander ? Todt ist die Mähre! Schlummernde Laster teuflische Ränke zum Feuerbrand schüren ; Hass säuget Hass, räudigen Geistes Gebild Über die Gräber fliegt, aus der Erde Brust quillt ; Hass säuget Hass bis geschrieben in Blut was die Hölle gewillt, Über Europen's Getrümmer Furien den Reigen führen! 183 Einstens schmückten mit Rosen den leuchtenden Schrein wir der Laren ; Tönender Wall Du von Stahl, wer türmte Dein furchtbar' Fanal, Leiber und Seelen opfernd dem Baal? Am heiligen Graal Lodert die Flamme und krächzende Geier halten ihr Mahl ;- Was mit dem Schwert Du errungen, nur mit dem Schwert kannst Du wahren! Wieder erweckte die Sonne Lenzpracht schlum- mernder Bäume, Wieder blühen die Rosen und Vöglein kosen ; das Ross Wieder lenket zum Acker friedsamen Sinnes der Tross. Rauschende Eichen! Weh' mir Allvater, hier stand ich und schoss! Kreuz Du Waldsaum! - Liebet einander ! Leben die Träume ? am 184 VOBISCUM PAX! “And thus I am absorbed, and this is life.”—BYRON. IN 3 Meeresstille, Himmel's sonn'ger Klarheit, Vor fünfzig Jahren landete ich hier. “ Werda ?” “ Ein Deutscher !” “England's Will- komm' Dir, Sei Bruder mir im Kampf für Recht und Wahrheit!" Und mich durchschauerte ein heiss' Begehren Und freud'gen Sinnes Herz und Hand ich weiht Albion Dir, und schwur der Väter Eid, Das Welfenhaus in Mannestreu' zu ehren. Auf neuer Heimath blüthumrankter Schwelle Den Laren flocht ich betend meinen Kranz ; “Vobiscum Pax!” Im minn'gen Maienglanz Mir rauschte Lebens wunderholde Quelle. Und was im Frühlingszauber ich besungen, Des Alters Kunde wähnt' das Werk vollbracht ; Bis jäh' vom Schlummer einer Sommernacht Zur Wolke stieg der Weckruf feur'ger Zungen! 185 Der Sturm brach los, roth türmten sich die Wetter, Des Rosses Huf zu Staub und Asche schlug Den Acker, der des Lebens Weisheit trug; Der Eintracht Traum,-zwei Brettlein und vier Bretter. Der Donner schweigt; es siegt das Ewig-Reine; Wie's einer Welt entflammter Zorn gefügt In seines Erbfeinds Banden Michel liegt, Es kräht der Hahn an Aachen's heil'gem Schreine. . Germania! Dir lag das All zu Füssen, Die fern’sten Zonen sangen Deinen Ruhm ; Die Sühnungswunde schlug das Preussentum, Der Fürsten Schuld, bethörte Völker büssen. Germania, Dich selbst erkennen lerne! Sei, was Du war’st in frommer Ahnen Zeit, Der Menschheit Denker, der in Lust und Leid Auf nied'rer Erde suchte Himmel's Sterne! Und hast die Dornenkrone Du zu tragen, - Durch Nacht zum Licht! Der alte Gott noch lebt, Ihr freundlich' Aug' die liebe Sonne hebt, Die Quellen rauschen und die Lerchen schlagen! 186 - Lass' Galliens Spottlied von der Lor'lei schallen, Auf Rheingau's Türmen seine Fahnen wehn,- Land meiner Väter, Deine Eichen steh'n, Nur Deine Götzenbilder sind gefallen! Der Donner schweigt, die Ihr auf Tod und Leben, Das Schwert gezückt einst, Eure Sippe schaart Vor Christi Kreuz zur grossen Pilgerfahrt Im Bruderkuss die Blutschuld zu vergeben! Die Welt mit minn'ger Thatkraft zu beglücken Der Sieger ruft! Sei mir willkommen Klang! Nun rüst auch ich mich zu dem Kirchengang, Will glaubensfroh wie einst die Laren schmücken! “Werda?" “ Dein Bruder !” “Du?" “ Der Westen, Osten Des Samens Aluchte, der Erzeuger Dir !” “Fluch seinem Fluch, stand fünfzig Jahre schier Ein Deutschgebor’ner auf All—England's Posten!” Das Land der Väter mein, im Strom der Zeiten Des Glaubens Hort, der Künste Pflegerin, In heil'ger Leidenschaft geklärt den Sinn, Vereint mit uns will für die Menschheit streiten! 187 Uns einen Himmel woll'n wir bau'n auf Erden; Der Donner schweigt, die Liebe hält Gericht Und zum verlor’nen Sohn in Gnaden spricht: Es soll auch Dir der Lethe Heiltrank werden!” Wenn wir, die leben, längst im Grabe modern Der ew'ge Geist einst Heerschau halten wird ; “Werda ?” “Vobiscum Pax, der gute Hirt'!”. In Himmel's Firnen Freudenfeuer lodern! 188 DER GOTTSUCHER “O Herrgott, wie viel von Liebe." —ROSEGGER. UND ND soll uns wieder werden Ein grosser Völkerkrieg, Verleih' O Herr der Erden Der Menschheit Deinen Sieg ! Der Blindheit Staar zu stechen, Der Liebe Schwur zu sprechen, Gewaff' und Schild zu brechen! Frisch auf Ihr Mannen, schwinget Den Flamberg einmal noch; Mit heil'gem Eifer ringet Uns los von Hasses Joch! Zerhaut der Rachgier Krallen, Lasst hoch zu Himmels Hallen Der Freiheit Lieder schallen! Du Schrecken ohne Ende,- Fluch Dir, O Bruderstreit, 189 Und Heil der Sonnenwende, Der holden Eintracht Kleid Mit minn'ger Hand zu weben, Die Seele zu erheben, In Gottes Fried' zu leben! 190 STARB FÜR'S VATERLAND “Written on sand."-Keats. SONN ONNENGLANZ an Himmel's Weite, Rauschen lind im Hag; Wanderte dem Freund zur Seite, Düstern Blick's er sprach : “Drüben in des Waldes Runde, Einst ein Grabstein stand; Der hier ruht, so scholl die Kunde, Starb für's Vaterland! Duft'ger Fülle spross der Flieder, Liebesgruss sein Hang, Vöglein sangen frohe Lieder, Und ein Glöcklein klang; Rosen roth mit minn'gem Flüstern, Neigten ihre Pracht, Und die Eichen und die Rüstern, Hielten treue Wacht. 191 Vöglein's Lieder sind verklungen, Rosen roth verblüht Und das Glöcklein ist zersprungen, Himmel's Glanz verglüht; Was den Vätern lieb und theuer, Hat die Zeit verweht, Auf des Reiches Zinnen heuer, Feindes Herold steht; Wehrlos wir zu Füssen liegen, Seinem Siegesrecht, Hungersiech die Mütter wiegen Hungersiech' Geschlecht.” “Schweigen, dulden, weinen, frohnen, Freund, Dein Leid ist gross, Doch Du theilst es mit Millionen, Schwerer ist mein Loos; Feind im Land, das mich geboren, Weh' mir, und im Land Das zur Heimat ich erkoren, Lieblos, missverkannt, Schlug das Schwert mein Glück in Scherben, Frei dein Busen schwellt, Kannst der Väter Spruch vererben : Sterben wie ein Held!” Wanderte dem Freund zur Seite,--Wandere allein, Blutroth leuchtet Himmel's Weite, Und die Geier schrein. 192 ES WERDE « Θεών εν γούνασι κείται.” –HOMER. Zu U Ende sei die Zeit, die hehre In deren Schooss der Freiheit Keim Mit reichem Erntkranz, Gott zur Ehre, Friedfertig schmückte Euer Heim? Verblichen sei der Traum, der schöne, Dass unser Glück auch Euer Glück Und dass Europen's Zwist vertöne Wenn uns verbrüdert das Geschick ; Dass Geistes Kraft, die Kunst des Dichters Ein edler' Gut, als Kriegers Stolz, Dass mächt'ger als der Spruch des Richters Der Liebe Wort am Kreuzesholz ? Kleingläub'ge Ihr! Ob Winter's Brausen Der Erde raubte sonn'ge Pracht, Es harrt der Lenz in stillen Klausen Des Weckrufs ewig junger Macht! 193 Schwermüth'ger, Seel, dem Herrn der Erde Ihr habt gebeicht die Schuld, das Recht Das wir ersiegt auch Euer werde ; Im Staatenbund ein frei Geschlecht! 13 194 14TH DECEMBER 1918 “This hand to tyrants ever sworn the foe, For Freedom only deals the deadly blow; Then sheathes in calm repose the vengeful blade, For gentle peace in Freedom's hallowed shade.” ADAMS. ) TIMI 'IME speeds its wings. I was in Paris when The Boer we fought, 'midst vengeance- craving men Who cursed our Queen, our weal, by voice and pen, With shrieks and gestures, born in monkey-den. Since then all England gave her soul and gold For the defiler's cause, her Freedom sold, Freedom's immortal ord'nance to remould !- Has history ever nobler epic told ? a For ne'er before (do not forget) we met In combat Prussia; Europe owed a debt To her, who tore French tyrants' foul brevet, Thrice foiled their threat the world in chains to set. 195 O'er fame of old, changed into hideous things That bear the brand of Hell and Teuton Kings, Time speeds its wings — England her challenge Alings To War's base makers, and their bows unstrings. Sternly she drilled into obedience blind Our flesh and blood, a bond of hearts to find, Sternly she now proclaims the Empire's mind : No treacherous overtrust to cheat Mankind ! 196 CHRISTMAS GREETINGS, 1918 “Iesze Polska nie zginela.”—DOMBROWSKI. FRO 'ROM his hut in the mountains the hermit surveys The white-winged plain, whilst dawn's golden rays The woods caress, and the sound of bells To the Heavens ascends from worshipping dells ; And, joy in his soul, to God he prays :- “Spirit divine, glory to Thee, For the blessing of Peace and Liberty!' Behind the hut on the rock-bound track A toweret stands, storm-battered and black, Once the home of a mighty king ; And the burghers of Justice and Freedom sing, And the children dance round a snow-belted stack: “ The power of despots ye broke, now rise From shambles and shame, thro' suffering, wise!” : 197 PRESIDENT WILSON “Mon fils, si des pécheurs te séduisent, ne te laisse pas gagner." Proverbes de Salomon, fils de David, roi d'Israël. 'G AINST Demons of Hell to statecraft allied, The world fought in vain. Thou Knight of Grace, Who to Christ's true conception recalled our race, Of Mankind's Destiny soothsayer, guide, – Hast thou succeeded War's runes to erase From history's maze? hast muted, defied, Tied slanderer's tongue ? hast purified In our angry souls of Hatred the craze ? a Enshrouded our spirit, our passions inflamed !- From France's white cliffs blew a treacherous gale And the lifeboat “ Humanity” shattered its sail ; Triumphant “ The Tiger,” his booty he claimed! “And the fourteen shrines and the Holy Grail ?" “A beautiful vision, a fairy-tale !" 198 AVE TRIBUNUS PLEBIS, MUNDUS TE SALUTAT-1918 “ The peace of the world rests upon the arch which the war has built across the Atlantic.”—HENRY ARTHUR JONES. THOU, whom France welcomes as a demi-god, O steel thy heart 'gainst ruse and flattery; For in thy hands lies Mankind's destiny, The cup of Grace and the avenger's rod. War's ogres, bred in dens of infamy, On Europe's soul would heavy vengeance wreak, Lull to oblivion saintly thoughts that seek From tyrants' vile intrigues mankind to free. And now we pray : Let coming ages glean The harvest which God only has foreseen, His Decalogue, thy Ordinance of Fourteen! Columbus bore the Cross thro' storm-winged seas-- Take thou its Spirit to the hall of Peace, That once for all War's dreadful curse may cease! 199 THE TRIUMPH OF CHAOS “Ex semine messis.” Firs ) ' IRST year of War, red waves ankle-deep; Second and third, to the knee they creep; Fourth, on the horse's bridle they leap: Charon, no longer thy diptych keep!' Millions of wolves and millions of sheep Driven to slaughter? Up, brothers, and sweep Tyrants and slaves from the high and the deep Unto the Phlegethon's flaming heap ;- Blood have they sown, blood shall they reap! 200 ODE TO FREEDOM “O Freedom! O shadow and night, forms half shapen in the womb-to the outlet of delivery !”—EDWARD CARPENTER. BELOVED ELOVED and feared, a new-fledged eagle, raise a Thy peerless wings, nor weigh our needs by measure ; Proclaim abundance, make our work a pleasure, Render to man from God the fruits of Grace. Cradled in Heaven's pure precincts, rise and sweep To War's red gulf the bonds of foul oppression ; Lead, Daughter of God !-announce in solemn session : “Let who the grain has sown, the harvest reap!" To see thy triumph, to read in eyes benign My soul's own quest, long thwarted, now attained, The brotherhood of nations and races gained, To living and dead, 'tis a message immortal, divine ! 201 HAIL, SAINT JOHN'S DAY! "That, whither Love aspires, there shall my dwelling be.” ALDANA, AIL, Saint John's Day! Ye bells, keep ringing, ringing, With soothing tongues and inspiration rare, Our prayers to God from mother Earth to bear, For anguished souls, the chants of Mercy winging. Ring out the curse of Hatred and suspicion, Ring in Love's gospel, in our hearts to stay, A living force, with pæans crown “The Day,” Reveal of Brotherhood the glorious vision. The blood-won loot, for Europe's own salvation, Cast to the winds where all unholy dies; From purer aims let nobler weal arise : : Humanity-one hope, one soul, one nation! 202 THE GOLDEN YEARS “A pardlike spirit, beautiful and swift."-SHELLEY. E now reborn the world's great age, B The golden years for land and sea to gleam In fairy kisses, cherishing the dream Of mortals for immortal heritage, And silver-tongued enjoying sweet repose, That nought of war's unholy terror knows. For brighter, loftier aims the call shall rise, And in the saintly splendour of its prime Life shall create the visions of mute time, And do the bidding of the pure and wise- In spheres that human foot has never trod A harvest reap to please both man and God. 203 “CETERUM CENSEO CARTAGINEM ESSE DELENDAM” CATO. "Well, are there not twenty millions of Germans too many?” - A great personage at the Versailles Peace Congress (Statement made by the Friends' Emergency Committee, October 1919). (6 SUR a ) URRENDER the milch cows! Of treasure the dearth, Of famine the spectre, 'Sale Boche,' 'tis a lie; And e'en were it true, hunger and die, Women and babes ye of curs'd German birth!” England, dear England, hear'st thou the cry? To the Heavens it leaps from the death-stricken earth. See'st thou the tears? Black night on the hearth, Storm-swept the breast of the weeping sky! Is this then the fate of our victory, Revenge that revels in devilry, The nursery changed to a mortuary? England, deliverer, may God speed thy deed Of Mercy to teach the heaven-born creed, The starving to feed, Love's message to heed ! 204 OYEZ! OYEZ! " Quoth the Raven: 'Nevermore.' EDGAR ALLAN POE. WHOR HOREDOM their master, Greed a willing mate, Infamous Louis Quatorze and hordes of French, With fire and sword the German soul to quench, In ashes laid the fair Palatinate. Theirs was not war's brave deeds in field and trench, Theirs was the homage at hell's flaming gate, A brigandage for reason foul of State, That virtue shammed on Sinner's blood-stained bench, C The Huguenots, the Thermidor, black years, Then the Commune,—and then fair Europe's tears At Freedom's bier, and stricken mankind's fears ! And now again, through Rhineland marches France;- And has she vowed in righteous ordinance Of Brotherhood to herald the romance ? 205 THE DAWN “Their bodies are buried in peace, but their name liveth for evermore.”—ECCLESIASTICUS. N° longer ’midst yells of shells on grave-dotted sands England's linked legions stand, with bleeding hands From white-hot cannons hurling their thunderbrands! No longer of fifes the shriek, nor of drums the roll ; Muted the curse of the maimed and the wail of the soul, Faded the profiteer-patriot's aureole; No longer the harrowing dirge of the ravished maid, By tottering empires the holy of holies betrayed, O'er allied cities our airmen's shell-throwing raid !- No longer round hell's flaming cauldrons the witches dance? Tell me, great Spirit, hast thou in saintly romance The covenant sealed, true to Divine ordinance ? 206 Hungry our hearts, and the eyes that have seen things weep, — Soothing, yet suffering, knightly vigil we keep ;- Graced by Love's bounty the blessing of Heaven to reap! Thou, Mother Earth, on whose breast of the slain the pall, Have we atoned? O Christ, Redeemer of all, Spirit immortal, send forth Thy entrancing call! Europe's grim tyrants we chained when the Prussian host Of steel-clad manhood, silenced their Emperor's boast, Freedom's flag planted o'er the eagle-crowned post. And if creatures there are, still nursing the passion base Dread feuds to revive, and its phantoms of glory to chase, Alive or dead, deprive them, O Lord, of thy Grace! 207 "THE DAY" " Mehr Licht.”—GOETHE. “FLA "LAMING the sky—and the fight? “Man 'gainst the Devil's might!" “ Brother, is waning the night ?” Brother, fear nought and do right!” Phoenix divine, from the pyre arise, Spirit of Liberty, generous, wise, Truth expounding, confuting lies, Visions of Heaven realise, Earth, our Mother, thy paradise !— Deathless star Humanity, Thy benign magic to see Healing Life's infirmity, Love, the joyous watchword be! PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN BY NEILL AND CO., LTD., EDINBURGH. + UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS-URBANA 3 0112 073224468 217