Why did she love him? Curious fool! be still;Is human love the growth of human will?
Why did she love him? Curious fool! be still;Is human love the growth of human will?
John Crondall was my best man, as he has been always my best friend. He insisted on my taking over the permanent secretaryship ofThe Citizenswhen he went to the War Office. And since then I hope I have not ceased to take my part in making our history; but it is true that there is not much to tell that is not known equally well to everybody.
Assuredly peace hath her victories. Our national life has been a daily succession of victories since we fought for and won real peace and overcame the slavish notion that mere indolent quiescence could ever give security. Our daily victory as a race is the triumph of race loyalty over individual self-seeking; and I can conceive of no real danger for the British Empire unless the day came, which God forbid, when Englishmen forgot the gospel of our "New Century Puritanism"—the Canadian preachers' teaching of Duty and simple living. And that day can never come while ourCitizens'watchword endures:
"For God, our Race, and Duty!"
For me, I feel that my share of happiness, since those sombre days of our national chastisement, since those stern, strenuous months of England's awakening to the new life and faith of the twentieth century, has been more, far more, than my deserts. But I think we all feel that in these days; I hope we do. If we should ever again forget, punishment would surely come. But it is part of my happiness to believethat, at long last, our now really united race, our whole family, four hundred and twenty millions strong, has truly learned the lesson which our great patriot poet tried to teach in the wild years before discipline came to us, in the mailed hand of our one-time enemy:
God of our fathers, known of old,Lord of our far-flung battle-line,Beneath Whose awful Hand we holdDominion 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!
God of our fathers, known of old,Lord of our far-flung battle-line,Beneath Whose awful Hand we holdDominion 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!
For heathen heart that puts her trustIn 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!
For heathen heart that puts her trustIn 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!
Amen!
Transcriber's Note:Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note. Archaic, dialect and variant spellings remain as printed.