The Poetical Works of John Critchley Prince Edited by R. A. Douglas Lithgow |
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THE SOLDIER OF PROGRESS. |
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 | The Poetical Works of John Critchley Prince |  |
293
THE SOLDIER OF PROGRESS.
What are my glorious watchwords now?
“Truth, Virtue, Freedom,” these they are;
These, star-like, on my banner glow,
And lead me to the war;
But not with fierce and fiery hordes,
Not booming cannon, slaughtering swords,
Do I array the battle-van;
But with strong principles of right,
Sharp moral weapons for the fight,
Achieving good for Man.
“Truth, Virtue, Freedom,” these they are;
These, star-like, on my banner glow,
And lead me to the war;
But not with fierce and fiery hordes,
Not booming cannon, slaughtering swords,
Do I array the battle-van;
But with strong principles of right,
Sharp moral weapons for the fight,
Achieving good for Man.
Come forth, thrice-tempered steel of Truth,
And thou, stern Virtue, lend thy shield,
Immortal Freedom, strong in youth,
Equip me for the field;
Buckle thy corslet on my breast,
Set thy unshivered lance in rest,
Lend all thy panoply to-day;
Plant thy bright casket on my brow,
Crown me with snowy plumes—Ah! now
I'm ready for the fray.
And thou, stern Virtue, lend thy shield,
Immortal Freedom, strong in youth,
Equip me for the field;
Buckle thy corslet on my breast,
Set thy unshivered lance in rest,
Lend all thy panoply to-day;
Plant thy bright casket on my brow,
Crown me with snowy plumes—Ah! now
I'm ready for the fray.
Come on, in all your banded power,
Oppression, falsehood, error, wrong;
If God but help in peril's hour,
I in my cause am strong;
Come in the darkness of your guiles,
Lurk in the ambush of your wiles,
Come in your bold and brazen strength,
Come in the midnight or the day,
March, menace, struggle, or waylay,—
I'll conquer ye at length.
Oppression, falsehood, error, wrong;
If God but help in peril's hour,
I in my cause am strong;
294
Lurk in the ambush of your wiles,
Come in your bold and brazen strength,
Come in the midnight or the day,
March, menace, struggle, or waylay,—
I'll conquer ye at length.
Long the unequal strife may last,
With much of human waste and woe,
For the mixed records of the past
Too truly tell me so;
Still will I strive to raise on high
My ever-glorious battle-cry,
“Truth, Virtue, Freedom,” words of light;
And though I'm baffled for a time,
Others will hear the sound sublime,
And vindicate the right.
With much of human waste and woe,
For the mixed records of the past
Too truly tell me so;
Still will I strive to raise on high
My ever-glorious battle-cry,
“Truth, Virtue, Freedom,” words of light;
And though I'm baffled for a time,
Others will hear the sound sublime,
And vindicate the right.
| The Poetical Works of John Critchley Prince | |