 | To the end of the trail |  |
77
A SONG OF REBELLION
Beware!
Ye who sit in high places!
Have a care what the morrow brings!
The kings are fallen on their faces
And ye are viler than kings.
There's a death's head at your feasts.
Your old saws are something dreary,
And the world is wellnigh weary
Of the prosing of your priests.
There's a muttering in the air.
Beware!
Ye who sit in high places!
Have a care what the morrow brings!
The kings are fallen on their faces
And ye are viler than kings.
There's a death's head at your feasts.
Your old saws are something dreary,
And the world is wellnigh weary
Of the prosing of your priests.
There's a muttering in the air.
Beware!
The chains of your slaves are stronger
Than the chains of the slaves of old.
You bind with iron no longer
But the subtler strength of gold.
Hark! hear ye not through the night
A cry like the trumpet's clangor,
The cry of the wronged in their anger,
Of the strong man in his might?
Have ye heard and not understood?—
The knife is athirst for blood.
Than the chains of the slaves of old.
You bind with iron no longer
But the subtler strength of gold.
Hark! hear ye not through the night
A cry like the trumpet's clangor,
The cry of the wronged in their anger,
Of the strong man in his might?
Have ye heard and not understood?—
The knife is athirst for blood.
And you—will you dare revile them,
If they use the torch and the knife?
You, who have striven to beguile them
Of the beauty and joy of life!
You have made their days an ill dream
And the sweets of their childhood bitter,
While your lemans were brave with a glitter
Of gems and a golden gleam!
O the dainty joints you have carved,
While the babes of your workmen starved!
If they use the torch and the knife?
You, who have striven to beguile them
Of the beauty and joy of life!
78
And the sweets of their childhood bitter,
While your lemans were brave with a glitter
Of gems and a golden gleam!
O the dainty joints you have carved,
While the babes of your workmen starved!
Ye are snug and sedate in your churches
But your hearts have not known the Christ.
Your purity is offered for purchase,
And your honour is a thing that is priced.
But the wealth of your winning shall fare
At the last as wind-swept stubble.
Ye have cast away life for a bubble
That bursts at a breath of air.
Ye have bartered the things that endure,
O fools, for a lie and a lure.
But your hearts have not known the Christ.
Your purity is offered for purchase,
And your honour is a thing that is priced.
But the wealth of your winning shall fare
At the last as wind-swept stubble.
Ye have cast away life for a bubble
That bursts at a breath of air.
Ye have bartered the things that endure,
O fools, for a lie and a lure.
Ye marry and are given in marriage
For a pitiful gift of gold
Or a coat of arms on your carriage,
As if love were a tale that is told.
Ay, the daughter is sold for pelf
And the lie on her lips does not falter,
And the pander is a priest at the altar
And the bawd is the mother herself.
Let the Law and the Church approve!
But the wife is no wife without love.
For a pitiful gift of gold
Or a coat of arms on your carriage,
As if love were a tale that is told.
Ay, the daughter is sold for pelf
And the lie on her lips does not falter,
And the pander is a priest at the altar
And the bawd is the mother herself.
Let the Law and the Church approve!
But the wife is no wife without love.
79
You send your priests to our alleys
To tell us that meekness wins,
And reprove us for envy and malice
And exhort us to turn from our sins.
Was it by meekness you won?
Upon whom will you dare pass sentence?
We have sinned. Who has not? Will repentance
Undo one deed that is done?
Shall we kneel in a lazy despair,
And wail at the skies in vain prayer?
To tell us that meekness wins,
And reprove us for envy and malice
And exhort us to turn from our sins.
Was it by meekness you won?
Upon whom will you dare pass sentence?
We have sinned. Who has not? Will repentance
Undo one deed that is done?
Shall we kneel in a lazy despair,
And wail at the skies in vain prayer?
We have stifled our anger and stirred not,
And ye smote us with a heavier rod;
We have called upon God and He heard not,
And ye were more heedless than God.
It is time for the turn of the tide.
Oh, masters, are ye merciless blindly?
The barons of old were more kindly—
Would God we had let them abide!
It is time for the tide to turn.
Beware, lest your patience burn!
And ye smote us with a heavier rod;
We have called upon God and He heard not,
And ye were more heedless than God.
It is time for the turn of the tide.
Oh, masters, are ye merciless blindly?
The barons of old were more kindly—
Would God we had let them abide!
It is time for the tide to turn.
Beware, lest your patience burn!
War! War!
The world has groaned long enough
With its weariness and its pain.
Behold, are we not strong enough
To arise and shatter the chain?
Forward into the fight!
Cut a way through the ranks of error!
On—in the teeth of terror!
On—through the dark to the light!
Behind the storm is the star!
War! War!
The world has groaned long enough
With its weariness and its pain.
Behold, are we not strong enough
To arise and shatter the chain?
Forward into the fight!
80
On—in the teeth of terror!
On—through the dark to the light!
Behind the storm is the star!
War! War!
1889.
| To the end of the trail | |