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TO AMERICA, CONCERNING ENGLAND
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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TO AMERICA, CONCERNING ENGLAND

I may be exposing my memory (not that it will greatly trouble me) to unfriendly if also well-meant criticism in reprinting this sonnet, in which America, during the period of her non-intervention in the late European War, was reproached for the neutral attitude which we must now suppose her to have afterwards believed it either her duty or her interest to abandon. But as my appeal to her is said, with every appearance of authority, to have influenced many serious minds in the United States, where it was undoubtedly read by countless multitudes, and where it called forth in many quarters such bitter retort as sufficiently proved it to have been a letter which reached its address, there can be no reason other than a merely capricious one, on my part, for seeking to efface all memory of it now. It may be permissible for me to add that if anyone regards this poem as convicting me of anti-American bias, I think more than enough printed evidence can be brought forward to justify my acquittal on that charge.

Art thou her child, born in the proud midday
Of her large soul's abundance and excess,
Her daughter and her mightiest heritress,
Dowered with her thoughts, and lit on thy great way
By her great lamps that shine and fail not? Yea!
And at this thunderous hour of struggle and stress,
Hither across the ocean wilderness
What word comes frozen on the frozen spray?
Neutrality! The tiger from his den
Springs at thy mother's throat, and canst thou now
Watch with a stranger's gaze? So be it, then!
Thy loss is more than hers; for, bruised and torn,
She shall yet live without thine aid, and thou
Without the crown divine thou might'st have worn.
1915