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So are we miners, great and small, By sunny slope or lower gloom, And day by day we hear a call As from the distant tomb, But, when the evening shadows fall, The lights of home will gleam for all.
LOVE OF COUNTRY.
Love of country is the life of war; Love not your country then, If loving it should lead you into war; Oh do not be deceived--Love is broader,-- Love is broader than a wheatfield, Love is broader than a landscape; Do not be misled--love the world; Begin at home--love your birthplace, Then your county, then your state, Then your country, then the countries Of your brothers and sisters, who look So much like you--like hands, like feet, Like ears, like eyes, like lips; like sorrows, Like hopes, like joys; like body, mind And spirit, for the spirit of one man Differeth not from the spirit of another, Or high or low, or rich or poor, being The same yesterday, to-day and forever.
Love of country is the life of war; Love not your country then, If loving it should lead you into war-- Should lead you into hatred Of your neighbor's country--lead you To strike down even unto death Your brother who so resembles you, Made in your image, and in the likeness Of the living G.o.d.
THE SINKING OF THE t.i.tANIC
"t.i.tanic!--rightly named, sir"--says the captain of the ship, "And the safest of all vessels--now mark her maiden trip,"
And all think as the captain thinks--all her two thousand souls As steadily out o'er the sea the stately vessel rolls.
For she is shod with iron and her frame is built of oak, And stout hearts man the vessel, wherefore the captain spoke; And with naught for pleasure lacking, so stately and so fair, She seems a floating palace--fit for angels living there.
So "farewell," says merry England, "farewell" says each green isle, "And blessings for this n.o.ble ship on her initial trial, And praise be to her makers, and good-will to her crew, And safety to her pa.s.sengers"--take this as our adieu.
O there were pleasant partings as the vessel sail'd away, And there was joy in every heart that pleasant April day, And there were happy thoughts of home--of meeting kith and kin, For the stately vessel soon would be her harbor safe within.
And so blue the sky above them and so blue the wave beneath, That all,--all thought of living and no one thought of death, As, hour by hour, the vessel left England far behind, And, hour by hour, the ship sped on as speeds an ocean wind.
And when night came, with fond good-nights the floating city slept, Yet ever o'er the rolling waves the mighty vessel swept, And no one thought of danger--until with thunderous roar, The great ship struck the rock-like ice, and shook from floor to floor.
Then there was breaking timbers, and bulging plates of steel, And noise of great commotion along that vessel's keel-- Then there were cries of anguish, and curses from rough men, And earnest prayers for safety--O prayers for safety then.
For women wept in terror, and stout men drop'd a tear, And the shouting and the tumult was maddening to hear, Yet there amidst that seething the life-boats, one by one, Were set adrift at midnight--where cold sea-rivers run.
Then, on that fated vessel, the thousand waited there In hope some sea-born sister would s.n.a.t.c.h them from despair, But no ship came to aid her, and, in the dead of night, The n.o.ble ship t.i.tanic sank suddenly from sight.
O midway in old ocean, in her darkest, deepest gloom, A thousand brave hearts bravely went down to meet their doom,-- And what a tragic picture!--Oh, what a solemn sight Upon that fated vessel with the stars still shining bright!
Then there was time for thinking--O time enough to spare, And there was time for cursing and time enough for pray'r,-- Time,--time for retrospection, and time enough to die, Time, time for life's great tragedy--and time to reason why.
That was the greatest battle that ever yet was fought; That was the greatest picture on any canvas wrought; That was the greatest lesson that mortal man can teach; That was the greatest sermon that priests of earth can preach.
Yet no one fought that battle with saber or with gun, And no one saw that picture, save those brave hearts alone, And no one read that lesson there written in the dark, And no one heard that sermon that went straight to its mark.
Nor shall we know their story, the saddest of the sea, Or shall we learn the sequel, the sorrow yet to be, But long shall we remember how brave men bravely died For some poor, lowly woman with a baby at her side.
And when the world gets scorning the greatest of the great, When poverty sits cursing the man of large estate, O then let men remember, how, in that awful hour, The wealth of all the world was powerless in its power.
WAR AND PEACE.
War is h.e.l.l!--war is h.e.l.l!-- This is what the war-men yell Yet they love to be in h.e.l.l, Love to hear the iron hail Strike, till even strong men quail; Love the dying soldier's knell, Ringing shot and shrieking sh.e.l.l, Love to hear the battle-cry, Love to see men fight and die With the struggle in their eye-- War is h.e.l.l--war is h.e.l.l,-- This is what the war-men yell.
War is wrong--war is wrong; This the burden of my song: War is wrong--war is wrong-- Sound the pean, human tongue; Let the message far be flung-- Sound it, sound it heaven-high, Sound it to the starry sky, And Heaven, repeat the echoing, Till all the earth of peace shall sing.
Peace loves day, but war loves night; Peace loves calmness, war--to fight In the wrong or in the right; Peace the hungry man gives bread, War would give a stone instead; Peace is honest--not so war, Crying--any way is fair; Peace loves life--War loves the dead With a halo overhead; Peace pleads justice--War cries might In the wrong or in the right; Peace pleads--love your fellow-man, War cries--kill him if you can; Peace no evil thing would slight, Yet while daring dares not fight, Knowing might makes nothing right; Peace means liberty and life, War means enmity and strife; Peace means plenty, peace means power, War means--h.e.l.l, and would devour All who do not trust its power; Peace means joy and love tomorrow, War means hatred, death and sorrow; Peace says--Bless you--men are brothers, War says--d.a.m.n you, and all others.
War is h.e.l.l, war is h.e.l.l!-- This is what the war-men yell; War is wrong, war is wrong-- This the burden of my song; War is wrong, war is wrong, There never was a just one, Never; There never was a just one, Never.
True as two from two leaves none, True as days are never done, True as rivers downward run, True as heaven holds the sun,-- War is wrong, war is wrong, There never was a just one, Never; There never was a just one, Never-- Sound the message, human tongue, Sound it, sound it heaven-high, Sound it to the starry sky, And Heaven, repeat the echoing Till all the earth of peace shall sing.
PEACE AND WAR.
Blest is that man who first cries peace, But curst is he who first cries war, For war is murder. It must cease Forever and from everywhere.
TO ANDREW CARNEGIE.
Philanthropist, far-sighted millionaire, Lover of prose and friend of poetry, What needs my pen in furtherance declare Thou art also a friend of liberty,-- Thou art, indeed, a very Prince of Peace, Who, conscious of the uselessness of war, Believest man's red carnage soon should cease, And nations now for n.o.bler things prepare: What needs my pen in furtherance recite Thy kindly interest in the weal of man-- Yet, lacking need, I nothing lose to write, But rather gain in praising as I can, For, if thy wealth the world sweet peace may give, Perhaps my lines in praise of peace may live.