Hymn Before Action
1896
The earth is full of anger,
The seas are dark with wrath,
The Nations in their harness
Go up against our path:
Ere yet we draw the blade,
Jehovah of the Thunders,
Lord God of Battles, aid!
High lust and froward bearing,
Proud heart, rebellious brow –
Deaf ear and soul uncaring,
We seek My mercy now!
The sinner that forswore Thee,
The fool that passed Thee by,
Our times are known before Thee –
Lord, grant us strength to die!
For those who kneel beside us
At altars not Thine own,
Who lack the lights that guide us,
Lord, let their faith atone!
If wrong we did to call them,
By honour bound they came;
Let not Thy Wrath befall them,
But deal to us the blame.
From panic, pride, and terror
Revenge that knows no rein –
Light haste and lawless error,
Protect us yet again,
Cloke Thou our undeserving,
Make firm the shuddering breath,
In silence and unswerving
To taste Thy lesser death.
Ah, Mary pierced with sorrow,
Remember, reach and save
The soul that comes to-morrow
Before the God that gave!
Since each was born of woman,
For each at utter need –
True comrade and true foeman –
Madonna, intercede!
E’en now their vanguard gathers,
E’en now we face the fray –
As Thou didst help our fathers,
Help Thou our host to-day.
Fulfilled of signs and wonders,
In life, in death made clear –
Jehovah of the Thunders,
Lord God of Battles, hear!
Recessional
(A Victorian Ode)
God of our fathers, known of old –
Lord of our far-flung battle line –
Beneath whose awful hand we hold
Dominion over palm and pine –
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget – lest we forget!
The tumult and the shouting dies –
The Captains and the Kings depart –
Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice,
An humble and a contrite heart.
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget – lest we forget!
Far-called our navies melt away –
On dune and headland sinks the fire –
Lo, all our pomp of yesterday
Is one with Nineveh and Tyre!
Judge of the Nations, spare us yet,
Lest we forget – lest we forget!
If, drunk with sight of power, we loose
Wild tongues that have not Thee in awe –
Such boastings as the Gentiles use,
Or lesser breeds without the Law –
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget – lest we forget!
For heathen heart that puts her trust
In reeking tube and iron shard –
All valiant dust that builds on dust,
And guarding calls not Thee to guard.
For frantic boast and foolish word,
Thy Mercy on Thy People, Lord!
Amen.
**The Gods of the Copybook Headings **
As I pass through my incarnations in every age and race
I make my proper prostrations to the gods of the market place
Peering through reverent fingers I watch them flourish and fall
But the gods of the copybook headings, I notice, outlast them all
We were living in trees when they met us, and showed us each in turn
That water would certianly wet us and fire would certianly burn
But we found them lacking uplift, vision and depth of mind
So we left them to teach the gorillas as we followed the march of
mankind
We moved as the spirit listed, they never altered there pace
Being neither cloud- nor windborne like the gods of the market place
But they alway caught up with our progress, and presently word would
come
That a tribe had been wiped off it’s icefield, or the lights had gone
out in Rome
With the hopes that our world is built on, they were utterly out of
touch
They denied that the moon is Stilton, they denied that she’s even Dutch
They denied that wishes were horses, they denied that pigs had wings
So we worshipped the gods of the market, who promised these beautiful
things
When the Cambrian measures were forming they promised perpetual peace
They swore, if we lay down our weapons, the wars of the tribes would
cease
But when we disarmed they sold us, and delivered us bound to our foe
And the gods of the copybook headings said, “Stick to the devil you
know”
On the first Feminian sandstones they promised the fuller life
Which started by loving our neighbour, and ended by loving his wife
'til our women had no more children, and our men lost reason and faith
And the gods of the copybook headings said, “The wages of sin is death”
In the Caboniferous Epoch they promised abundance for all
By robbing selected Peter to pay for colletive Paul
And though we had plenty of money, there was nothing our money could
buy
And the gods of the copybook headings said, “If you don’t work, you die”
Then the gods of the market tumbled, and their smooth tounged wizards
withdrew
And the hearts of the meanest were humbled, and began to believe it was
true
That all is not gold that glitters, and two and two make four
And the gods of the copybook headings limped up to explain it once more
That as it will be in the future, it was at the dawn of man
Only four things certian since social progress began
That a dog return to its vomit, and a sow returns to her mire
And the burnt fools bandaged finger, goes wobbling back to the fire
When all this has been acomplished and a brave new world begins
Where all men are paid for existing, and no man must pay for his sins
As surely as water will wet us and as surely as fire will burn
The gods of the copybook headings with terror and slaughter return