Part 13
Then came I into a certain field Where the devil's paint-brush spread 'Mid the gray and green of the rolling hills A flaring splotch of red,-- An evil omen, a bloody sign, And a token of many dead.
I saw in a vision the field-gray horde Break forth at the devil's hour, And trample the earth into crimson mud In the rage of the Will to Power,-- All this I dreamed in the valley of Kyll, At the sign of the blood-red flower.
A SCRAP OF PAPER
"Will you go to war just for a scrap of paper?"--_Question of the German Chancellor to the British Ambassador_, _August 5_, 1914.
A mocking question! Britain's answer came Swift as the light and searching as the flame.
"Yes, for a scrap of paper we will fight Till our last breath, and God defend the right!
"A scrap of paper where a name is set Is strong as duty's pledge and honor's debt.
"A scrap of paper holds for man and wife The sacrament of love, the bond of life.
"A scrap of paper may be Holy Writ With God's eternal word to hallow it.
"A scrap of paper binds us both to stand Defenders of a neutral neighbor land.
"By God, by faith, by honor, yes! We fight To keep our name upon that paper white."
September, 1914.
STAND FAST
Stand fast, Great Britain! Together England, Scotland, Ireland stand One in the faith that makes a mighty land,-- True to the bond you gave and will not break And fearless in the fight for conscience' sake! Against the Giant Robber clad in steel, With blood of trampled Belgium on his heel, Striding through France to strike you down at last, Britain, stand fast!
Stand fast, brave land! The Huns are thundering toward the citadel; They prate of Culture but their path is Hell; Their light is darkness, and the bloody sword They wield and worship is their only Lord. O land where reason stands secure on right, O land where freedom is the source of light, Against the mailed Barbarians' deadly blast, Britain, stand fast!
Stand fast, dear land! Thou island mother of a world-wide race, Whose children speak thy tongue and love thy face, Their hearts and hopes are with thee in the strife, Their hands will break the sword that seeks thy life; Fight on until the Teuton madness cease; Fight bravely on, until the word of peace Is spoken in the English tongue at last,-- Britain, stand fast!
September, 1914.
LIGHTS OUT
(1915)
"Lights out" along the land, "Lights out" upon the sea. The night must put her hiding hand O'er peaceful towns where children sleep, And peaceful ships that darkly creep Across the waves, as if they were not free.
The dragons of the air, The hell-hounds of the deep, Lurking and prowling everywhere, Go forth to seek their helpless prey, Not knowing whom they maim or slay-- Mad harvesters, who care not what they reap.
Out with the tranquil lights, Out with the lights that burn For love and law and human rights! Set back the clock a thousand years: All they have gained now disappears, And the dark ages suddenly return.
Kaiser, who loosed wild death, And terror in the night, God grant you draw no quiet breath, Until the madness you began Is ended, and long-suffering man, Set free from war lords, cries, "Let there be Light."
October, 1915.
Read at the meeting of the American Academy, Boston, November, 1915.
REMARKS ABOUT KINGS
"_God said I am tired of kings._"--EMERSON.
God said, "I am tired of kings,"-- But that was a long while ago! And meantime man said, "No,-- I like their looks in their robes and rings." So he crowned a few more, And they went on playing the game as before, Fighting and spoiling things.
Man said, "I am tired of kings! Sons of the robber-chiefs of yore, They make me pay for their lust and their war; I am the puppet, they pull the strings; The blood of my heart is the wine they drink. I will govern myself for awhile I think, And see what that brings!"
Then God, who made the first remark, Smiled in the dark.
October, 1915.
Read at the meeting of the American Academy, Boston, November, 1915.
MIGHT AND RIGHT
If Might made Right, life were a wild-beasts' cage; If Right made Might, this were the golden age; But now, until we win the long campaign, Right must gain Might to conquer and to reign.
July 1, 1915.
THE PRICE OF PEACE
Peace without Justice is a low estate,-- A coward cringing to an iron Fate! But Peace through Justice is the great ideal,-- We'll pay the price of war to make it real.
December 28, 1916.
STORM-MUSIC
O Music hast thou only heard The laughing river, the singing bird, The murmuring wind in the poplar-trees,-- Nothing but Nature's melodies? Nay, thou hearest all her tones, As a Queen must hear! Sounds of wrath and fear, Mutterings, shouts, and moans, Madness, tumult, and despair,-- All she has that shakes the air With voices fierce and wild! Thou art a Queen and not a dreaming child,-- Put on thy crown and let us hear thee reign Triumphant in a world of storm and strain!
Echo the long-drawn sighs Of the mounting wind in the pines; And the sobs of the mounting waves that rise In the dark of the troubled deep To break on the beach in fiery lines. Echo the far-off roll of thunder, Rumbling loud And ever louder, under The blue-black curtain of cloud, Where the lightning serpents gleam. Echo the moaning Of the forest in its sleep Like a giant groaning In the torment of a dream.
Now an interval of quiet For a moment holds the air In the breathless hush Of a silent prayer.
Then the sudden rush Of the rain, and the riot Of the shrieking, tearing gale Breaks loose in the night, With a fusillade of hail! Hear the forest fight, With its tossing arms that crack and clash In the thunder's cannonade, While the lightning's forked flash Brings the old hero-trees to the ground with a crash! Hear the breakers' deepening roar, Driven like a herd of cattle In the wild stampede of battle, Trampling, trampling, trampling, to overwhelm the shore!
Is it the end of all? Will the land crumble and fall? Nay, for a voice replies Out of the hidden skies, "Thus far, O sea, shalt thou go, So long, O wind, shalt thou blow: Return to your bounds and cease, And let the earth have peace!"
O Music, lead the way-- The stormy night is past, Lift up our hearts to greet the day, And the joy of things that last.
The dissonance and pain That mortals must endure, Are changed in thine immortal strain To something great and pure.
True love will conquer strife, And strength from conflict flows, For discord is the thorn of life And harmony the rose.
May, 1916.
THE BELLS OF MALINES
August 17, 1914
The gabled roofs of old Malines Are russet red and gray and green, And o'er them in the sunset hour Looms, dark and huge, St. Rombold's tower. High in that rugged nest concealed, The sweetest bells that ever pealed, The deepest bells that ever rung, The lightest bells that ever sung, Are waiting for the master's hand To fling their music o'er the land.
And shall they ring to-night, Malines? In nineteen hundred and fourteen, The frightful year, the year of woe, When fire and blood and rapine flow Across the land from lost Liége, Storm-driven by the German rage? The other carillons have ceased: Fallen is Hasselt, fallen Diest, From Ghent and Bruges no voices come, Antwerp is silent, Brussels dumb!
But in thy belfry, O Malines, The master of the bells unseen Has climbed to where the keyboard stands,-- To-night his heart is in his hands! Once more, before invasion's hell Breaks round the tower he loves so well, Once more he strikes the well-worn keys, And sends aërial harmonies Far-floating through the twilight dim In patriot song and holy hymn.
O listen, burghers of Malines! Soldier and workman, pale béguine, And mother with a trembling flock Of children clinging to thy frock,-- Look up and listen, listen all! What tunes are these that gently fall Around you like a benison? "The Flemish Lion," "Brabançonne," "O brave Liége," and all the airs That Belgium in her bosom bears.
Ring up, ye silvery octaves high, Whose notes like circling swallows fly; And ring, each old sonorous bell,-- "Jesu," "Maria," "Michaël!" Weave in and out, and high and low, The magic music that you know, And let it float and flutter down To cheer the heart of the troubled town. Ring out, "Salvator," lord of all,-- "Roland" in Ghent may hear thee call!
O brave bell-music of Malines, In this dark hour how much you mean! The dreadful night of blood and tears Sweeps down on Belgium, but she hears Deep in her heart the melody Of songs she learned when she was free. She will not falter, faint, nor fail, But fight until her rights prevail And all her ancient belfries ring "The Flemish Lion," "God Save the King!"
JEANNE D'ARC RETURNS [2]
1914-1916
What hast thou done, O womanhood of France, Mother and daughter, sister, sweetheart, wife, What hast thou done, amid this fateful strife, To prove the pride of thine inheritance In this fair land of freedom and romance? I hear thy voice with tears and courage rife,-- Smiling against the swords that seek thy life,-- Make answer in a noble utterance: "I give France all I have, and all she asks. Would it were more! Ah, let her ask and take: My hands to nurse her wounded, do her tasks,-- My feet to run her errands through the dark,-- My heart to bleed in triumph for her sake,-- And all my soul to follow thee, Jeanne d'Arc!"
April 16, 1916.
[2] This sonnet belongs with the poem on page 309, "Come Back Again, Jeanne D'Arc."
THE NAME OF FRANCE
Give us a name to fill the mind With the shining thoughts that lead mankind, The glory of learning, the joy of art,-- A name that tells of a splendid part In the long, long toil and the strenuous fight Of the human race to win its way From the feudal darkness into the day Of Freedom, Brotherhood, Equal Right,-- A name like a star, a name of light. I give you _France_!
Give us a name to stir the blood With a warmer glow and a swifter flood, At the touch of a courage that conquers fear,-- A name like the sound of a trumpet, clear, And silver-sweet, and iron-strong, That calls three million men to their feet, Ready to march, and steady to meet The foes who threaten that name with wrong,-- A name that rings like a battle-song. I give you _France_!
Give us a name to move the heart With the strength that noble griefs impart, A name that speaks of the blood outpoured To save mankind from the sway of the sword,-- A name that calls on the world to share In the burden of sacrificial strife When the cause at stake is the world's free life And the rule of the people everywhere,-- A name like a vow, a name like a prayer. I give you _France_!
The Hague, September, 1916.
AMERICA'S PROSPERITY
They tell me thou art rich, my country: gold In glittering flood has poured into thy chest; Thy flocks and herds increase, thy barns are pressed With harvest, and thy stores can hardly hold Their merchandise; unending trains are rolled Along thy network rails of East and West; Thy factories and forges never rest; Thou art enriched in all things bought and sold!
But dost _thou_ prosper? Better news I crave. O dearest country, is it well with thee Indeed, and is thy soul in health? A nobler people, hearts more wisely brave, And thoughts that lift men up and make them free,-- These are prosperity and vital wealth!
The Hague, October 1, 1916.
THE GLORY OF SHIPS
The glory of ships is an old, old song, since the days when the sea-rovers ran, In their open boats through the roaring surf, and the spread of the world began; The glory of ships is a light on the sea, and a star in the story of man.
When Homer sang of the galleys of Greece that conquered the Trojan shore, And Solomon lauded the barks of Tyre that brought great wealth to his door, 'Twas little they knew, those ancient men, what would come of the sail and the oar.
The Greek ships rescued the West from the East, when they harried the Persians home; And the Roman ships were the wings of strength that bore up the empire, Rome; And the ships of Spain found a wide new world, far over the fields of foam.
Then the tribes of courage at last saw clear that the ocean was not a bound, But a broad highway, and a challenge to seek for treasure as yet unfound; So the fearless ships fared forth to the search, in joy that the globe was round.
Their hulls were heightened, their sails spread out, they grew with the growth of their quest; They opened the secret doors of the East, and the golden gates of the West; And many a city of high renown was proud of a ship on its crest.
The fleets of England and Holland and France were at strife with each other and Spain; And battle and storm sent a myriad ships to sleep in the depths of the main; But the seafaring spirit could never be drowned, and it filled up the fleets again.
They greatened and grew, with the aid of steam, to a wonderful, vast array, That carries the thoughts and the traffic of men into every harbor and bay; And now in the world-wide work of the ships 'tis England that leads the way.
O well for the leading that follows the law of a common right on the sea! But ill for the leader who tries to hold what belongs to mankind in fee! The way of the ships is an open way, and the ocean must ever be free!
Remember, O first of the maritime folk, how the rise of your greatness began. It will live if you safeguard the round-the-world road from the shame of a selfish ban; For the glory of ships is a light on the sea, and a star in the story of man!
September 12, 1916.
MARE LIBERUM
I
You dare to say with perjured lips, "We fight to make the ocean free"? _You_, whose black trail of butchered ships Bestrews the bed of every sea Where German submarines have wrought Their horrors! Have you never thought,-- What you call freedom, men call piracy!
II
Unnumbered ghosts that haunt the wave, Where you have murdered, cry you down; And seamen whom you would not save, Weave now in weed-grown depths a crown Of shame for your imperious head, A dark memorial of the dead Women and children whom you sent to drown.
III
Nay, not till thieves are set to guard The gold, and corsairs called to keep O'er peaceful commerce watch and ward, And wolves to herd the helpless sheep, Shall men and women look to thee, Thou ruthless Old Man of the Sea, To safeguard law and freedom on the deep!
IV
In nobler breeds we put our trust: The nations in whose sacred lore The "Ought" stands out above the "Must," And honor rules in peace and war. With these we hold in soul and heart, With these we choose our lot and part, Till Liberty is safe on sea and shore.
_London Times_, February 12, 1917.
"LIBERTY ENLIGHTENING THE WORLD"
Thou warden of the western gate, above Manhattan Bay, The fogs of doubt that hid thy face are driven clean away: Thine eyes at last look far and clear, thou liftest high thy hand To spread the light of liberty world-wide for every land.
No more thou dreamest of a peace reserved alone for thee, While friends are fighting for thy cause beyond the guardian sea: The battle that they wage is thine; thou fallest if they fall; The swollen flood of Prussian pride will sweep unchecked o'er all.
O cruel is the conquer-lust in Hohenzollern brains: The paths they plot to gain their goal are dark with shameful stains; No faith they keep, no law revere, no god but naked Might; They are the foemen of mankind. Up, Liberty, and smite!
Britain, and France, and Italy, and Russia newly born, Have waited for thee in the night. Oh, come as comes the morn! Serene and strong and full of faith, America, arise, With steady hope and mighty help to join thy brave Allies.
O dearest country of my heart, home of the high desire, Make clean thy soul for sacrifice on Freedom's altar-fire: For thou must suffer, thou must fight, until the warlords cease, And all the peoples lift their heads in liberty and peace.
_London Times_, April 12, 1917.
THE OXFORD THRUSHES
February, 1917
I never thought again to hear The Oxford thrushes singing clear, Amid the February rain, Their sweet, indomitable strain.
A wintry vapor lightly spreads Among the trees, and round the beds Where daffodil and jonquil sleep; Only the snowdrop wakes to weep.
It is not springtime yet. Alas, What dark, tempestuous days must pass, Till England's trial by battle cease, And summer comes again with peace.
The lofty halls, the tranquil towers, Where Learning in untroubled hours Held her high court, serene in fame, Are lovely still, yet not the same.
The novices in fluttering gown No longer fill the ancient town; But fighting men in khaki drest, And in the Schools the wounded rest.
Ah, far away, 'neath stranger skies Full many a son of Oxford lies, And whispers from his warrior grave, "I died to keep the faith you gave."
The mother mourns, but does not fail, Her courage and her love prevail O'er sorrow, and her spirit hears The promise of triumphant years.
Then sing, ye thrushes, in the rain Your sweet indomitable strain. Ye bring a word from God on high And voices in our hearts reply.
HOMEWARD BOUND
Home, for my heart still calls me; Home, through the danger zone; Home, whatever befalls me, I will sail again to my own!
Wolves of the sea are hiding Closely along the way, Under the water biding Their moment to rend and slay.
Black is the eagle that brands them, Black are their hearts as the nights Black is the hate that sends them To murder but not to fight.
Flower of the German Culture, Boast of the Kaiser's Marine, Choose for your emblem the vulture, Cowardly, cruel, obscene!
Forth from her sheltered haven Our peaceful ship glides slow, Noiseless in flight as a raven, Gray as a hoodie crow.
She doubles and turns in her bearing, Like a twisting plover she goes; The way of her westward faring Only the captain knows.
In a lonely bay concealing She lingers for days, and slips At dusk from her covert, stealing Thro' channels feared by the ships.
Brave are the men, and steady, Who guide her over the deep,-- British mariners, ready To face the sea-wolf's leap.
Lord of the winds and waters, Bring our ship to her mark, Safe from this game of hide-and-seek With murderers in the dark!
On the S.S. _Baltic_, May, 1917.
THE WINDS OF WAR-NEWS
The winds of war-news change and veer: Now westerly and full of cheer, Now easterly, depressing, sour With tidings of the Teutons' power.
But thou, America, whose heart With brave Allies has taken part, Be not a weathercock to change With these wild winds that shift and range.
Be thou a compass ever true, Through sullen clouds or skies of blue, To that great star which rules the night,-- The star of Liberty and Right.
Lover of peace, oh set thy soul, Thy strength, thy wealth, thy conscience whole, To win the peace thine eyes foresee,-- The triumph of Democracy.
December 19, 1917.
RIGHTEOUS WRATH
There are many kinds of anger, as many kinds of fire; And some are fierce and fatal with murderous desire; And some are mean and craven, revengeful, sullen, slow, They hurt the man that holds them more than they hurt his foe.
And yet there is an anger that purifies the heart: The anger of the better against the baser part, Against the false and wicked, against the tyrant's sword, Against the enemies of love, and all that hate the Lord.
O cleansing indignation, O flame of righteous wrath, Give me a soul to feel thee and follow in thy path! Save me from selfish virtue, arm me for fearless fight, And give me strength to carry on, a soldier of the Right!
January, 1918.
THE PEACEFUL WARRIOR
I have no joy in strife, Peace is my great desire; Yet God forbid I lose my life Through fear to face the fire.
A peaceful man must fight For that which peace demands,-- Freedom and faith, honor and right, Defend with heart and hands.
Farewell, my friendly books; Farewell, ye woods and streams; The fate that calls me forward looks To a duty beyond dreams.
Oh, better to be dead With a face turned to the sky, Than live beneath a slavish dread And serve a giant lie.
Stand up, my heart, and strive For the things most dear to thee! Why should we care to be alive Unless the world is free?
May, 1918.
FROM GLORY UNTO GLORY
AMERICAN FLAG SONG
1776
O dark the night and dim the day When first our flag arose; It fluttered bravely in the fray To meet o'erwhelming foes. Our fathers saw the splendor shine, They dared and suffered all; They won our freedom by the sign-- The holy sign, the radiant sign-- Of the stars that never fall.
_Chorus_
All hail to thee, Young Glory! Among the flags of earth We'll ne'er forget the story Of thy heroic birth.
1861
O wild the later storm that shook The pillars of the State, When brother against brother took The final arms of fate. But union lived and peace divine Enfolded brothers all; The flag floats o'er them with the sign-- The loyal sign, the equal sign-- Of the stars that never fall.
_Chorus_
All hail to thee, Old Glory! Of thee our heart's desire Foretells a golden story, For thou hast come through fire.
1917
O fiercer than all wars before That raged on land or sea, The Giant Robber's world-wide war For the things that shall not be! Thy sister banners hold the line; To thee, dear flag, they call; And thou hast joined them with the sign-- The heavenly sign, the victor sign-- Of the stars that never fall.
_Chorus_
All hail to thee, New Glory! We follow thee unfurled To write the larger story Of Freedom for the World.
September 4, 1918.
BRITAIN, FRANCE, AMERICA
The rough expanse of democratic sea Which parts the lands that live by liberty Is no division; for their hearts are one. To fight together till their cause is won.
For land and water let us make our pact, And seal the solemn word with valiant act: No continent is firm, no ocean pure, Until on both the rights of man are sure.
April, 1917.
THE RED CROSS
Sign of the Love Divine That bends to bear the load Of all who suffer, all who bleed, Along life's thorny road:
Sign of the Heart Humane, That through the darkest fight Would bring to wounded friend and foe A ministry of light: