Part 23 (1/2)

”If the living could but hear What is heard by my roots as they creep Round the restful flock, and the things said there, No one would weep.”

”'Now set among the wise,'

They say: 'Enlarged in scope, That no G.o.d trumpet us to rise We truly hope.'”

I listened to his strange tale In the mood that stillness brings, And I grew to accept as the day wore pale That show of things.

”FOR LIFE I HAD NEVER CARED GREATLY”

For Life I had never cared greatly, As worth a man's while; Peradventures unsought, Peradventures that finished in nought, Had kept me from youth and through manhood till lately Unwon by its style.

In earliest years--why I know not - I viewed it askance; Conditions of doubt, Conditions that leaked slowly out, May haply have bent me to stand and to show not Much zest for its dance.

With symphonies soft and sweet colour It courted me then, Till evasions seemed wrong, Till evasions gave in to its song, And I warmed, until living aloofly loomed duller Than life among men.

Anew I found nought to set eyes on, When, lifting its hand, It uncloaked a star, Uncloaked it from fog-damps afar, And showed its beams burning from pole to horizon As bright as a brand.

And so, the rough highway forgetting, I pace hill and dale Regarding the sky, Regarding the vision on high, And thus re-illumed have no humour for letting My pilgrimage fail.

”MEN WHO MARCH AWAY”

(SONG OF THE SOLDIERS)

What of the faith and fire within us Men who march away Ere the barn-c.o.c.ks say Night is growing gray, Leaving all that here can win us; What of the faith and fire within us Men who march away?

Is it a purblind prank, O think you, Friend with the musing eye, Who watch us stepping by With doubt and dolorous sigh?

Can much pondering so hoodwink you!

Is it a purblind prank, O think you, Friend with the musing eye?

Nay. We well see what we are doing, Though some may not see - Dalliers as they be - England's need are we; Her distress would leave us rueing: Nay. We well see what we are doing, Though some may not see!

In our heart of hearts believing Victory crowns the just, And that braggarts must Surely bite the dust, Press we to the field ungrieving, In our heart of hearts believing Victory crowns the just.

Hence the faith and fire within us Men who march away Ere the barn-c.o.c.ks say Night is growing gray, Leaving all that here can win us; Hence the faith and fire within us Men who march away.

September 5, 1914.

HIS COUNTRY

[He travels southward, and looks around;]

I journeyed from my native spot Across the south sea s.h.i.+ne, And found that people in hall and cot Laboured and suffered each his lot Even as I did mine.

[and cannot discern the boundary]