 | Poems: Second Series |  |
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THE MELEE,
OR PROGRESS.
God Thou rememberest all how straight to the battle we sprang:
Fiercely our sabres flashed in the light of the breaking day:
We sang with exultant hope as the stars of the morning sang
When God looked forth on the night and darkness melted away.
Fiercely our sabres flashed in the light of the breaking day:
We sang with exultant hope as the stars of the morning sang
When God looked forth on the night and darkness melted away.
Each heart was a thrill of joy, and joy is a psalm of praise:
Each heart was a flame of love, and love is a speechless prayer:
A rolling pæan arose, as floated before our gaze
Thy banner of ardent snow high into the azure air.
Each heart was a flame of love, and love is a speechless prayer:
A rolling pæan arose, as floated before our gaze
Thy banner of ardent snow high into the azure air.
Its splendour dazzled the eyes of one who was near my side:
The spear of the foeman came. I saw but I could not save.
The heart blood gushed from its fount: he sank to the ground and died:
His eyes were on Thee, oh God! Did they see Thee beyond the grave?
The spear of the foeman came. I saw but I could not save.
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His eyes were on Thee, oh God! Did they see Thee beyond the grave?
The thunder of battle crashed around me, as on I pressed:
I went—for the banner led me—to ramparts of living steel.
Were lances shivered against me—I knew that my shield was blest;
I laughed at the blows that numbed not, and wounds that I could not feel.
I went—for the banner led me—to ramparts of living steel.
Were lances shivered against me—I knew that my shield was blest;
I laughed at the blows that numbed not, and wounds that I could not feel.
For strong in the faith of Hope I dreamed that if e'er the foe
Looked up where above his head the banner floated and came,
He would shrink and wither away from the blaze of its burning snow
As the stubble of autumn shrinks from the breath of the burning flame.
Looked up where above his head the banner floated and came,
He would shrink and wither away from the blaze of its burning snow
As the stubble of autumn shrinks from the breath of the burning flame.
But the serried ranks stood firm as rocks in a raging sea:
The waves of our fury burst against them in empty spray:
And the driving wind was changed to eddies of mocking glee,
That caught the feathers of foam and laughed and whirled them away.
The waves of our fury burst against them in empty spray:
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That caught the feathers of foam and laughed and whirled them away.
Then we looked that the Lord of hosts should wake in a moment's space,
Should waken and work a wonder, and leave us a living sign:
And we looked that the foe should melt at the lightning sheen of His face,
And know that the banner of snow that led us, O Lord! was thine.
Should waken and work a wonder, and leave us a living sign:
And we looked that the foe should melt at the lightning sheen of His face,
And know that the banner of snow that led us, O Lord! was thine.
But never a sign was given, and never a voice was heard,
And they who were faint of heart cried out that the day was lost—
For ‘the foe is still unshaken, and the Lord has never stirred’
And they turned and left the battle or fought with the demon host.
And they who were faint of heart cried out that the day was lost—
For ‘the foe is still unshaken, and the Lord has never stirred’
And they turned and left the battle or fought with the demon host.
The sword of my ardent hope is broken, O God, in twain:
I am pierced with a hundred wounds and hidden in dust and gore:
I am stiff with unending toil: I am weary and worn with pain:
I reel and my eyes are blind, for the death mist swims before.
I am pierced with a hundred wounds and hidden in dust and gore:
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I reel and my eyes are blind, for the death mist swims before.
Yet it may be that inch by inch, since the dawn of the day began,
We have driven the foemen back, though I knew not when or where:
We see but a little space, and life is a little span,
And the soldier can but know how his nearest comrades fare.
We have driven the foemen back, though I knew not when or where:
We see but a little space, and life is a little span,
And the soldier can but know how his nearest comrades fare.
And the ages come and vanish, but the world flows on for aye;
And the battle is ever fought, and the Good for ever wins:
And the lightest blow is weighty to guide to its end the fray—
For God the Eternal ripens what the seed of time begins.
And the battle is ever fought, and the Good for ever wins:
And the lightest blow is weighty to guide to its end the fray—
For God the Eternal ripens what the seed of time begins.
We bid Him arise from slumber—but the Lord God never sleeps:
His work is a lightning flash, but it flashes in God's own sight:
He holds in a drop of light the infinite Ocean deeps,
And the lives of a million men are less than a moment's flight.
His work is a lightning flash, but it flashes in God's own sight:
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And the lives of a million men are less than a moment's flight.
We bid him work us a wonder and show us His cloudless face:
Its splendour is all around us: our eyes are dazzled and dim:
And wide as the world of being, and wider than time and space
Is the wonder that He is working through hearts that are strong in Him.
Its splendour is all around us: our eyes are dazzled and dim:
And wide as the world of being, and wider than time and space
Is the wonder that He is working through hearts that are strong in Him.
They say that our cause is broken: I see with the eyes of death,
Whose mists are stealing around me to hide me away from pain:
I shall sleep as a little child on the bosom of one deep faith,
That never a wound was wasted and never a blow was vain.
Whose mists are stealing around me to hide me away from pain:
I shall sleep as a little child on the bosom of one deep faith,
That never a wound was wasted and never a blow was vain.
| Poems: Second Series | |