 | The Poems of A. C. Benson |  |
126
STAND ASIDE
Stand aside! The battle is but beginning,
And the field is wide!
No room for dreamers! the fight is worth the winning;—
Wherefore stand aside!
Hark to the clash of steel, the murderous rattle,
As the ranks divide;—
Hast thou heart for the fury of the battle?
Stand aside!
And the field is wide!
No room for dreamers! the fight is worth the winning;—
Wherefore stand aside!
Hark to the clash of steel, the murderous rattle,
As the ranks divide;—
Hast thou heart for the fury of the battle?
Stand aside!
Why? I know not; perchance thy leader saw thee;—
He was here anon;—
Thou wert wistfully gazing out before thee,
As the flying spears swept on;
Thou didst stand, on thy sword a moment leaning,
Was it languor, or fear, or pride?
Ask not, answer not—Truth! it needs no screening;
Only stand aside!
He was here anon;—
Thou wert wistfully gazing out before thee,
As the flying spears swept on;
Thou didst stand, on thy sword a moment leaning,
Was it languor, or fear, or pride?
Ask not, answer not—Truth! it needs no screening;
Only stand aside!
Rage in thy heart? It comes too late for mending;
Rage was best before:
Tears in thine eyes? Good lack, he knows no bending;
Hark to the infinite roar!
Thou hast leisure to frame a million reasons;—
Oh! but truth is wide:—
This be thy task, as seasons slip to seasons;
Only stand aside!
Rage was best before:
127
Hark to the infinite roar!
Thou hast leisure to frame a million reasons;—
Oh! but truth is wide:—
This be thy task, as seasons slip to seasons;
Only stand aside!
Thou wilt hear, on the lonely hillside wending,
When the fight is done,
Down in the valley the sounds of music blending,
And the shouts of victory won;
We fare rudely—and rude will be our laughter;
Yours to think and pray!
You will fight, you say, in the long hereafter;
Stand aside to-day!
When the fight is done,
Down in the valley the sounds of music blending,
And the shouts of victory won;
We fare rudely—and rude will be our laughter;
Yours to think and pray!
You will fight, you say, in the long hereafter;
Stand aside to-day!
It may be we shall fight again together,
You will do your part;—
Give me rather the grave beneath the heather,
Than the wounds which smart!
You will hover on heights of airy scheming,
Heights that we ne'er have tried;—
Ours the slumber without the need of dreaming;
Therefore stand aside!
You will do your part;—
Give me rather the grave beneath the heather,
Than the wounds which smart!
You will hover on heights of airy scheming,
Heights that we ne'er have tried;—
Ours the slumber without the need of dreaming;
Therefore stand aside!
| The Poems of A. C. Benson | |