The Red Flower | Page 2

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 time 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 while I think,?And see what that brings!"
Then God, who made the first remark,?Smiled in the dark.
Read at the meeting of the American Academy, Boston.?November, 1915.
WAR-MUSIC
Break off! Dance no more!?Danger is at the door.?Music is in arms.?To signal war's alarms,
Hark, a sudden trumpet calling?Over the hill?Why are you calling, trumpet, calling??What is your will?
Men, men, men!?Men who are ready to fight?For their country's life, and the right.?Of a liberty-loving land to be?Free, free, free!?Free from a tyrant's chain,?Free from dishonor's stain,?Free to guard and maintain?All that her fathers fought for,?All that her sons have wrought for,?Resolute, brave, and free!
Call again, trumpet, call again,
Call up the men!?Do you hear the storm of cheers?Mingled with the women's tears?And the tramp, tramp, tramp of marching feet??Do you hear the throbbing drum?As the hosts of battle come?Keeping time, time, time to its beat??O Music give a song?To make their spirit strong?For the fury of the tempest they must meet.
The hoarse roar?Of the monster guns;?And the sharp bark?Of the lesser guns;?The whine of the shells,?The rifles' clatter?Where the bullets patter,?The rattle, rattle, rattle?Of the mitrailleuse in battle,?And the yells?Of the men who charge through hells?Where the poison gas descends.?And the bursting shrapnel rends?Limb from limb?In the dim?Chaos and clamor of the strife?Where no man thinks of his life?But only of fighting through,?Blindly fighting through, through!
'Tis done?At last!?The victory won,?The dissonance of warfare past!
O Music mourn the dead?Whose loyal blood was shed,?And sound the taps for every hero slain;?Then lend into the song?That made their spirit strong,?And tell the world they did not die in vain.
Thank God we can see, in the glory of morn,?The invincible flag that our fathers defended;?And our hearts can repeat what the heroes have sworn,?That war shall not end till the war-lust is ended,?Then the bloodthirsty sword shall no longer be lord?Of the nations oppressed by the conqueror's horde,?But the banners of freedom shall peacefully wave?O'er the world of the free and the lands of the brave.
May, 1916
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,?Mildness, 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