The Lord of Misrule, and Other Poems Part 8

TO THE DESTROYERS

Yes. You have shattered many an ancient wrong, And we were with you, heart and mind and soul, But there are fools who cast away control In life and thought and art; because the Strong-- We dare to say it--have now destroyed so long, That careless minds forget the unchanging goal-- The n.o.bler Order which shall make us whole, The Service which is freedom, beauty, song.

We shall be stoned as traitors to your cause While the real traitors that you did not know, Chaos and Vice, trumpet themselves as free.

Pray G.o.d that, loyal to the Eternal laws, A little remnant, mauled by friend and foe, Save you through Truth, and bring you Liberty.

THE TRUMPET-CALL

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Trumpeter, sound the great recall!

Swift, O swift, for the squadrons break, The long lines waver, mazed in the gloom!

Hither and thither the blind host blunders.

Stand thou firm for a dead Man's sake, Firm where the ranks reel down to their doom, Stand thou firm in the midst of the thunders, Stand where the steeds and the riders fall, Set the bronze to thy lips and sound A rally to ring the whole world round.

Trumpeter, rally us, rally us, rally us!

Sound the great recall.

II

Trumpeter, sound for the ancient heights!

Clouds of the earth-born battle cloak The heaven that our fathers held from of old; And we--shall we prate to their sons of the gain In gold or bread? Through yonder smoke The heights that never were won with gold Wait, still bright with their old red stain, For the thousand chariots of G.o.d again, And the steel that swept thro' a hundred fights With the Ironsides, equal to life and death, The steel, the steel of their ancient faith.

Trumpeter, rally us, rally us, rally us!

Sound for the sun-lit heights.

III

Trumpeter, sound for the faith again!

Blind and deaf with the dust and the blood, Clashing together we know not whither The tides of the battle would have us advance.

Stand thou firm in the crimson flood, Send the lightning of thy great cry Through the thunders, athwart the storm, Sound till the trumpets of G.o.d reply From the heights we have lost in the steadfast sky, From the Strength we despised and rejected. Then, Locking the ranks as they form and form, Lift us forward, banner and lance, Mailed in the faith of Cromwell's men, When from their burning hearts they hurled The gage of heaven against the world!

Trumpeter, rally us, rally us, rally us, Up to the heights again.

IV

Trumpeter, sound for the last Crusade!

Sound for the fire of the red-cross kings, Sound for the pa.s.sion, the splendour, the pity That swept the world for a dead Man's sake, Sound, till the answering trumpet rings Clear from the heights of the holy City, Sound till the lions of England awake, Sound for the tomb that our lives have betrayed; O'er broken shrine and abandoned wall, Trumpeter, sound the great recall, Trumpeter, rally us, rally us, rally us; Sound for the last Crusade!

V

Trumpeter, sound for the splendour of G.o.d!

Sound the music whose name is law, Whose service is perfect freedom still, The order august that rules the stars.

Bid the anarchs of night withdraw, Too long the destroyers have worked their will, Sound for the last, the last of the wars.

Sound for the heights that our fathers trod, When truth was truth and love was love, With a h.e.l.l beneath, but a heaven above, Trumpeter, rally us, up to the heights of it!

Sound for the City of G.o.d.

THE HEART OF CANADA

_July 1912_

Because her heart is all too proud --_Canada! Canada! fair young Canada_-- To breathe the might of her love aloud, Be quick, O Motherland!

Because her soul is wholly free --_Canada kneels, thy daughter, Canada_-- England, look in her eyes and see, Honour and understand.

Because her pride at thy masthead shines, --_Canada! Canada!_--queenly Canada Bows with all her breathing pines, All her fragrant firs.

Because our isle is little and old --_Canada! Canada!_--young-eyed Canada Gives thee, Mother, her hands to hold, And makes thy glory hers.

Because thy Fleet is hers for aye, --_Canada! Canada!_--clear-souled Canada, Ere the war-cloud roll this way, Bids the world beware.

Her heart, her soul, her sword are thine --_Thine the guns, the guns of Canada!_-- The ships are foaming into line, And Canada will be there.

THE RETURN OF THE HOME-BORN

All along the white chalk coast The mist lifts clear.

Wight is glimmering like a ghost.

The ship draws near.

Little inch-wide meadows Lost so many a day, The first time I knew you Was when I turned away.

Island--little island-- Lost so many a year, Mother of all I leave behind --_Draw me near!_-- Mother of half the rolling world, And O, so little and gray, The first time I found you Was when I turned away.

_Over yon green water Suss.e.x lies.

But the slow mists gather In our eyes.

England, little island --G.o.d, how dear!-- Fold me in your mighty arms, Draw me near._

Little tawny roofs of home, Nestling in the gray, Where the smell of Suss.e.x loam Blows across the bay ...

Fold me, teach me, draw me close, Lest in death I say The first time I loved you Was when I turned away.

A SALUTE FROM THE FLEET

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