FRANCIS BLAKE CROFTON
AFORETHOUGHT of the fated reign of peaceFell on the soul of Anti-Christ, I dreamed;And his brow darkened, and his hate-lit eyesAloft glared lurid through the mist of space.Then vast and shadowy rose the Lord of War,And shook his right hand at a far White Throne,Brooding unutterable blasphemies.Anon he gazed upon our shuddering world,The while, with voice that fires or freezes souls,He spake his message to the circling windsAnd roused to battle all his myrmidons:"Up, despot, trembling for a blood-bought crown!The smouldering flame that threatens thine own houseHurl at another's; lead thy people onBy glory's flaring torches to their doom.(Ever the spearPierces the spirit of the Prince of Peace!)"Yoke Victory to thy chariot and ride on,Trampling the pride of nations, Conqueror!Let thy maimed warriors writhe alone; for thouArt scorn of God for His vile images.(And scorn of mineFor Him who pleads for them at God's right hand.)"Pause not to reck the ruin thou hast made:Is not the comet's course foredoomed, and thine?A deathless name outweighs a million deaths,And orphans' sighs are mute 'mid the acclaimOf multitudes.(What is the grief of Jesus unto thee?)"Statesman, behold, thy trustful neighbors sleep,And rust is on their swords, your blades are sharp!Swift and relentless press thy specious claim;Not thine the toil or risk, thine the fame to winWith others' blood.(That human blood that filled the veins of Christ!)"Flushed with a spotless triumph, patriots,From brave defence advance to stern revenge,And urge a war of conquest and bequeathA heritage of hatred to your sons.(For freedom's sakeStabbing His soul who 'came not to destroy'!)"Wake, silent trump of holy discord! SwordOf God and Gideon, hew the Gentiles down!Slay, in your ruth for graceless babes unborn!Clash, rival crosses, mock the Crucified!Blaze, lethal fires!(Iwill accept the incense thatHeloathes.)"Poets sublime who sway the souls of men!Sing still of arms and human hecatombs,And wrath and glory and the pride of race;Let rhymesters mumble of love, pity, peace.(Sing ye the spearThat glances from its victims to Christ's heart.)"And thou, enthusiast, whose genius caughtThe soul of Revolution and enchainedThe fiery spirit in a song, thy strainsAgain shall stir rapt throngs to fratricide:'To arms! to arms!'(Christ mocks me with His pity from His throne!)"Sound trump and drum and fife and clarion,Sound, to the rhythmic march of warriors,With priestly benedictions on their prideAnd beauty's smiles upon their waving plumes.(Marching in pompTo wound the wearied spirit of their Christ!)"Oh, pygmy pomp and blazon of man's war!When Michael strove with Satan 'mid the stars,Therewere seraphic deeds and agoniesAnd not this earthly death! Nathless I craveUnnumbered slain—The sin of His own slayers tortured Him!"Hail to thy memory, war of wars, that jarredAwhile the calm of heaven, when Pride and Hate,Stung by the still rebuke of Love supreme,Rose, fought and fell! And to thy memory hail,Symbolic spear,That wounded the dead Christ on Calvary!"Dear is the murderer's dagger; dear the rackThat strains the frame of one who testifiesWith his last breath to Christ; dearest the spearThat stabbed Him on the Cross and stabs Him still,Each thrust a balmTo soothe my sleepless memory in hell!"
AFORETHOUGHT of the fated reign of peaceFell on the soul of Anti-Christ, I dreamed;And his brow darkened, and his hate-lit eyesAloft glared lurid through the mist of space.Then vast and shadowy rose the Lord of War,And shook his right hand at a far White Throne,Brooding unutterable blasphemies.Anon he gazed upon our shuddering world,The while, with voice that fires or freezes souls,He spake his message to the circling windsAnd roused to battle all his myrmidons:"Up, despot, trembling for a blood-bought crown!The smouldering flame that threatens thine own houseHurl at another's; lead thy people onBy glory's flaring torches to their doom.(Ever the spearPierces the spirit of the Prince of Peace!)"Yoke Victory to thy chariot and ride on,Trampling the pride of nations, Conqueror!Let thy maimed warriors writhe alone; for thouArt scorn of God for His vile images.(And scorn of mineFor Him who pleads for them at God's right hand.)"Pause not to reck the ruin thou hast made:Is not the comet's course foredoomed, and thine?A deathless name outweighs a million deaths,And orphans' sighs are mute 'mid the acclaimOf multitudes.(What is the grief of Jesus unto thee?)"Statesman, behold, thy trustful neighbors sleep,And rust is on their swords, your blades are sharp!Swift and relentless press thy specious claim;Not thine the toil or risk, thine the fame to winWith others' blood.(That human blood that filled the veins of Christ!)"Flushed with a spotless triumph, patriots,From brave defence advance to stern revenge,And urge a war of conquest and bequeathA heritage of hatred to your sons.(For freedom's sakeStabbing His soul who 'came not to destroy'!)"Wake, silent trump of holy discord! SwordOf God and Gideon, hew the Gentiles down!Slay, in your ruth for graceless babes unborn!Clash, rival crosses, mock the Crucified!Blaze, lethal fires!(Iwill accept the incense thatHeloathes.)"Poets sublime who sway the souls of men!Sing still of arms and human hecatombs,And wrath and glory and the pride of race;Let rhymesters mumble of love, pity, peace.(Sing ye the spearThat glances from its victims to Christ's heart.)"And thou, enthusiast, whose genius caughtThe soul of Revolution and enchainedThe fiery spirit in a song, thy strainsAgain shall stir rapt throngs to fratricide:'To arms! to arms!'(Christ mocks me with His pity from His throne!)"Sound trump and drum and fife and clarion,Sound, to the rhythmic march of warriors,With priestly benedictions on their prideAnd beauty's smiles upon their waving plumes.(Marching in pompTo wound the wearied spirit of their Christ!)"Oh, pygmy pomp and blazon of man's war!When Michael strove with Satan 'mid the stars,Therewere seraphic deeds and agoniesAnd not this earthly death! Nathless I craveUnnumbered slain—The sin of His own slayers tortured Him!"Hail to thy memory, war of wars, that jarredAwhile the calm of heaven, when Pride and Hate,Stung by the still rebuke of Love supreme,Rose, fought and fell! And to thy memory hail,Symbolic spear,That wounded the dead Christ on Calvary!"Dear is the murderer's dagger; dear the rackThat strains the frame of one who testifiesWith his last breath to Christ; dearest the spearThat stabbed Him on the Cross and stabs Him still,Each thrust a balmTo soothe my sleepless memory in hell!"
AFORETHOUGHT of the fated reign of peaceFell on the soul of Anti-Christ, I dreamed;And his brow darkened, and his hate-lit eyesAloft glared lurid through the mist of space.Then vast and shadowy rose the Lord of War,And shook his right hand at a far White Throne,Brooding unutterable blasphemies.Anon he gazed upon our shuddering world,The while, with voice that fires or freezes souls,He spake his message to the circling windsAnd roused to battle all his myrmidons:
AFORETHOUGHT of the fated reign of peace
Fell on the soul of Anti-Christ, I dreamed;
And his brow darkened, and his hate-lit eyes
Aloft glared lurid through the mist of space.
Then vast and shadowy rose the Lord of War,
And shook his right hand at a far White Throne,
Brooding unutterable blasphemies.
Anon he gazed upon our shuddering world,
The while, with voice that fires or freezes souls,
He spake his message to the circling winds
And roused to battle all his myrmidons:
"Up, despot, trembling for a blood-bought crown!The smouldering flame that threatens thine own houseHurl at another's; lead thy people onBy glory's flaring torches to their doom.(Ever the spearPierces the spirit of the Prince of Peace!)
"Up, despot, trembling for a blood-bought crown!
The smouldering flame that threatens thine own house
Hurl at another's; lead thy people on
By glory's flaring torches to their doom.
(Ever the spear
Pierces the spirit of the Prince of Peace!)
"Yoke Victory to thy chariot and ride on,Trampling the pride of nations, Conqueror!Let thy maimed warriors writhe alone; for thouArt scorn of God for His vile images.(And scorn of mineFor Him who pleads for them at God's right hand.)
"Yoke Victory to thy chariot and ride on,
Trampling the pride of nations, Conqueror!
Let thy maimed warriors writhe alone; for thou
Art scorn of God for His vile images.
(And scorn of mine
For Him who pleads for them at God's right hand.)
"Pause not to reck the ruin thou hast made:Is not the comet's course foredoomed, and thine?A deathless name outweighs a million deaths,And orphans' sighs are mute 'mid the acclaimOf multitudes.(What is the grief of Jesus unto thee?)
"Pause not to reck the ruin thou hast made:
Is not the comet's course foredoomed, and thine?
A deathless name outweighs a million deaths,
And orphans' sighs are mute 'mid the acclaim
Of multitudes.
(What is the grief of Jesus unto thee?)
"Statesman, behold, thy trustful neighbors sleep,And rust is on their swords, your blades are sharp!Swift and relentless press thy specious claim;Not thine the toil or risk, thine the fame to winWith others' blood.(That human blood that filled the veins of Christ!)
"Statesman, behold, thy trustful neighbors sleep,
And rust is on their swords, your blades are sharp!
Swift and relentless press thy specious claim;
Not thine the toil or risk, thine the fame to win
With others' blood.
(That human blood that filled the veins of Christ!)
"Flushed with a spotless triumph, patriots,From brave defence advance to stern revenge,And urge a war of conquest and bequeathA heritage of hatred to your sons.(For freedom's sakeStabbing His soul who 'came not to destroy'!)
"Flushed with a spotless triumph, patriots,
From brave defence advance to stern revenge,
And urge a war of conquest and bequeath
A heritage of hatred to your sons.
(For freedom's sake
Stabbing His soul who 'came not to destroy'!)
"Wake, silent trump of holy discord! SwordOf God and Gideon, hew the Gentiles down!Slay, in your ruth for graceless babes unborn!Clash, rival crosses, mock the Crucified!Blaze, lethal fires!(Iwill accept the incense thatHeloathes.)
"Wake, silent trump of holy discord! Sword
Of God and Gideon, hew the Gentiles down!
Slay, in your ruth for graceless babes unborn!
Clash, rival crosses, mock the Crucified!
Blaze, lethal fires!
(Iwill accept the incense thatHeloathes.)
"Poets sublime who sway the souls of men!Sing still of arms and human hecatombs,And wrath and glory and the pride of race;Let rhymesters mumble of love, pity, peace.(Sing ye the spearThat glances from its victims to Christ's heart.)
"Poets sublime who sway the souls of men!
Sing still of arms and human hecatombs,
And wrath and glory and the pride of race;
Let rhymesters mumble of love, pity, peace.
(Sing ye the spear
That glances from its victims to Christ's heart.)
"And thou, enthusiast, whose genius caughtThe soul of Revolution and enchainedThe fiery spirit in a song, thy strainsAgain shall stir rapt throngs to fratricide:'To arms! to arms!'(Christ mocks me with His pity from His throne!)
"And thou, enthusiast, whose genius caught
The soul of Revolution and enchained
The fiery spirit in a song, thy strains
Again shall stir rapt throngs to fratricide:
'To arms! to arms!'
(Christ mocks me with His pity from His throne!)
"Sound trump and drum and fife and clarion,Sound, to the rhythmic march of warriors,With priestly benedictions on their prideAnd beauty's smiles upon their waving plumes.(Marching in pompTo wound the wearied spirit of their Christ!)
"Sound trump and drum and fife and clarion,
Sound, to the rhythmic march of warriors,
With priestly benedictions on their pride
And beauty's smiles upon their waving plumes.
(Marching in pomp
To wound the wearied spirit of their Christ!)
"Oh, pygmy pomp and blazon of man's war!When Michael strove with Satan 'mid the stars,Therewere seraphic deeds and agoniesAnd not this earthly death! Nathless I craveUnnumbered slain—The sin of His own slayers tortured Him!
"Oh, pygmy pomp and blazon of man's war!
When Michael strove with Satan 'mid the stars,
Therewere seraphic deeds and agonies
And not this earthly death! Nathless I crave
Unnumbered slain—
The sin of His own slayers tortured Him!
"Hail to thy memory, war of wars, that jarredAwhile the calm of heaven, when Pride and Hate,Stung by the still rebuke of Love supreme,Rose, fought and fell! And to thy memory hail,Symbolic spear,That wounded the dead Christ on Calvary!
"Hail to thy memory, war of wars, that jarred
Awhile the calm of heaven, when Pride and Hate,
Stung by the still rebuke of Love supreme,
Rose, fought and fell! And to thy memory hail,
Symbolic spear,
That wounded the dead Christ on Calvary!
"Dear is the murderer's dagger; dear the rackThat strains the frame of one who testifiesWith his last breath to Christ; dearest the spearThat stabbed Him on the Cross and stabs Him still,Each thrust a balmTo soothe my sleepless memory in hell!"
"Dear is the murderer's dagger; dear the rack
That strains the frame of one who testifies
With his last breath to Christ; dearest the spear
That stabbed Him on the Cross and stabs Him still,
Each thrust a balm
To soothe my sleepless memory in hell!"