Classic Poem

Is Prevailed upon to Read His Unpublished War-Poem England Speaks .

I

Truly ye are my Sons; and I as your Mother will bide —
Even before I could need ye, ye sprang full-armed to my side.
Your swords have flashed from their scabbards, waiting my lightest call;
And I that have borne and bred ye, — would I could bleed for ye all.

Now we must meet Death daily, valiantly face to face.
Aye, for the good of the Peoples, for the sacred hopes of the race,
Flesh of my flesh ye have answered; waiting no word ye arose
From the home of the fevered East-wind and the haunts of the Virgin snows.

From its rock where Cape Town gazes over the herded seas,
From the gray wild tides that threaten the gray Antipodes,
Ye have rushed like waves from the waters, resistless and free and tall —
And I am the Mother that bore ye; — would I could bleed for ye all.

II

Yea, we are sworn to the Law, bearing the strength of the clan;
We have made our peace with Adam-zad, the bear that walks like a man.
Mighty are we, and our Allies weary never nor sleep;
For greater than guns or nations are the pledges that we keep.

Honor shall stand behind us, Lust and Darkness shall run —
Yea, and the years shall find us curbing the savage Hun,
As long as England's roast-beef shall strengthen England's tars,
And the English navies tower under the English stars.

While the Lord of Hosts, Jehovah, fights on the English side,
And the very skies of England lift with an English pride,
Wrapped in her fog like a mantle, and fired with English ale,
As long as she lists to her poets, England can never fail!