 | Voices and visions |  |
171
PRIDE OF NATIONS
Pride of nations, work your will
While its powers are in their prime,
Hedge it round with tact and skill,
Paint it fair in prose and rhyme;
Tinge it gaudier than the slime
That red battlefields distil;
Stain it with the gold you spill
Brighter than the daffodil;
Work your will; yet—War is crime.
While its powers are in their prime,
Hedge it round with tact and skill,
Paint it fair in prose and rhyme;
Tinge it gaudier than the slime
That red battlefields distil;
Stain it with the gold you spill
Brighter than the daffodil;
Work your will; yet—War is crime.
Pride of nations, work your will;
Bid its fiery meanings chime
With an epic charm sublime—
Teach your eloquence to thrill
Gathered throngs in many a clime;
Wrest from words, ‘Thou shalt not kill,’
Their appropriate sense, until
Conscience, grown a dexterous mime,
Raiments good in robes of ill—
Work your will; yet—War is crime.
Bid its fiery meanings chime
With an epic charm sublime—
Teach your eloquence to thrill
Gathered throngs in many a clime;
Wrest from words, ‘Thou shalt not kill,’
Their appropriate sense, until
Conscience, grown a dexterous mime,
Raiments good in robes of ill—
Work your will; yet—War is crime.
172
Pride of nations, work your will—
Cleanliness was never grime;
Chaste the woodland's crystal rill;
Gross the swine and rank the swill;
Pure the pasture's clustering thyme;
Foul the swamp and fresh the hill—
Pride of nations, work your will;
Save all heaven's fleet stars grow still,
One stern truth shall bide through time:
War is crime.
Cleanliness was never grime;
Chaste the woodland's crystal rill;
Gross the swine and rank the swill;
Pure the pasture's clustering thyme;
Foul the swamp and fresh the hill—
Pride of nations, work your will;
Save all heaven's fleet stars grow still,
One stern truth shall bide through time:
War is crime.
| Voices and visions | |