Poems of the Great War Part 1

Poems of the Great War.

by Various.

NOTE

This collection of War Poems, the net profits from which will be given to the Prince of Wales's Fund, represents the free offering of English poets to the cause of National Relief.

Most of the poems have appeared recently in the Press. Mr. Robert Bridges' opening contribution, Mr. Henry Newbolt's, Mr. Maurice Hewlett's, Mr. R. E. Vernede's, Mr. Binyon's, were all printed in the _Times_ during the few days immediately following the declaration of war, as also was the sonnet by Mr. William Watson. Sir Owen Seaman's poem came out originally in _Punch_, "The Hour" in the _Daily Telegraph_, "The United Front" in the _Daily Mail_. "We Willed it Not"

is reprinted from the _Sphere_, "Duty" and "Commandeered" from the _Westminster Gazette_, and the poems by Mr. Gilbert and Mr. Cecil Chesterton from the _New Witness_. The _New Weekly_ published the verses by Mr. John Freeman, and the _Daily Chronicle_ those by Mr. Harold Begbie. The two hymns which close the collection are reprinted, by special permission of their authors, from volumes previously published.

The publishers desire also to record their thanks to Mr. William Nicholson for the design which appears on the cover.

"WAKE UP, ENGLAND"

Thou careless, awake!

Thou peacemaker, fight!

Stand, England, for honour, And G.o.d guard the Right!

Thy mirth lay aside, Thy cavil and play: The foe is upon thee, And grave is the day.

The monarch Ambition Hath harnessed his slaves; But the folk of the Ocean Are free as the waves.

For Peace thou art armed Thy Freedom to hold: Thy Courage as iron, Thy Good-faith as gold.

Through Fire, Air, and Water Thy trial must be: But they that love life best Die gladly for thee.

The Love of their mothers Is strong to command; The fame of their fathers Is might to their hand.

Much suffering shall cleanse thee; But thou through the flood Shalt win to Salvation, To Beauty through blood.

Up, careless, awake!

Ye peacemakers, fight!

ENGLAND STANDS FOR HONOUR: G.o.d DEFEND THE RIGHT!

ROBERT BRIDGES, _Poet Laureate_

THE VIGIL

England! where the sacred flame Burns before the inmost shrine, Where the lips that love thy name Consecrate their hopes and thine, Where the banners of thy dead Weave their shadows overhead, Watch beside thine arms to-night, Pray that G.o.d defend the Right.

Think that when to-morrow comes War shall claim command of all, Thou must hear the roll of drums, Thou must hear the trumpet's call.

Now before they silence ruth, Commune with the voice of truth; England! on thy knees to-night Pray that G.o.d defend the Right.

Single-hearted, unafraid, Hither all thy heroes came, On this altar's steps were laid Gordon's life and Outram's fame.

England! if thy will be yet By their great example set, Here beside thine arms to-night Pray that G.o.d defend the Right.

So shalt thou when morning comes Rise to conquer or to fall, Joyful hear the rolling drums, Joyful hear the trumpet's call.

Then let memory tell thy heart; "_England! what thou wert, thou art!_"

Gird thee with thine ancient might, Forth! and G.o.d defend the Right!

HENRY NEWBOLT

TO THE TROUBLER OF THE WORLD

At last we know you, War-lord. You, that flung The gauntlet down, fling down the mask you wore, Publish your heart, and let its pent hate pour, You that had G.o.d for ever on your tongue.

We are old in war, and if in guile we are young, Young also is the spirit that evermore Burns in our bosom ev'n as heretofore, Nor are these thews unbraced, these nerves unstrung.

We do not with G.o.d's name make wanton play; We are not on such easy terms with Heaven; But in Earth's hearing we can verily say, "Our hands are pure; for peace, for peace we have striven"; And not by Earth shall he be soon forgiven Who lit the fire accurst that flames to-day.

WILLIAM WATSON

TO ENGLAND: TO STRIKE QUICKLY

Fight, since thou must; strike quick and fierce, So when this tyrant for too long Hath shook the blood out of his ears He may have learned the price of wrong.

Let him learn this, that the due grief Of his own vice he cannot ban By outrage of a highway thief; Let him remember the Corsican,

Whom England only durst not dread By sea or sh.o.r.e, but faced alone, Nor stayed for pity of her dead Until the despot's day was done.

Strike, England, quickly, make an end Of him who seeks a deal with thee.

If he would bargain for thy friend, What would he trade for Liberty?

MAURICE HEWLETT

THE FOURTH OF AUGUST