PROGRESSIVE

I run eight hundred hens to the acre.They die by dozens mysteriously…I am more than doubtful concerning my Maker.Why has the Lord afflicted me?What a return for all my endeavour—Not to mention the L. S. D.!I am an atheist now and for ever,Because this God has afflicted me!PROGRESSIVEMoney spent on an Army or FleetIs homicidal lunacy…My son has been killed in the Mons retreat.Why is the Lord afflicting me?Why are murder, pillage and arsonAnd rape allowed by the Deity?I will write to theTimes, deriding our parsonBecause my God has afflicted me.CHORUSWe had a kettle, we let it leak;Our not repairing it made it worse.We haven't had any tea for a week…The bottom is out of the Universe!CONCLUSIONThis was none of the good Lord's pleasure,For the Spirit He breathed in Man is free;But what comes after is measure for measureAnd not a God that afflicteth thee.As was the sowing so the reapingIs now and evermore shall be.Thou art delivered to thy own keeping.Only Thyself hath afflicted thee!A SONG AT COCK-CROW'Ille autem iterum negavit.'The first time that Peter deniéd his LordHe shrank from the cudgel, the scourge and the cord,But followed far off to see what they would do,Till the cock crew—till the cock crew—After Gethsemane, till the cock crew!The first time that Peter deniéd his Lord'Twas only a maid in the palace who heard,As he sat by the fire and warmed himself through.Then the cock crew! Then the cock crew!('Thou also art one of them.') Then the cock crew!The first time that Peter deniéd his LordHe had neither the Throne, nor the Keys nor the Sword—A poor silly fisherman, what could he doWhen the cock crew—when the cock crew—But weep for his wickedness when the cock crew?The next time that Peter deniéd his LordHe was Fisher of Men, as foretold by the Word,With the Crown on his brow and the Cross on his shoe,When the cock crew—when the cock crew—In Flanders and Picardy when the cock crew.The next time that Peter deniéd his Lord'Twas Mary the Mother in Heaven Who heard,And She grieved for the maidens and wives that they slewWhen the cock crew—when the cock crew—At Tirmonde and Aerschott when the cock crew.The next time that Peter deniéd his LordThe Babe in the Manger awakened and stirred,And He stretched out His arms for the playmates He knew—When the cock crew—when the cock crew—But the waters had covered them when the cock crew.The next time that Peter deniéd his Lord'Twas Earth in her agony waited his word,But he sat by the fire and naught would he do,Though the cock crew—though the cock crew—Over all Christendom, though the cock crew.The last time that Peter deniéd his Lord,The Father took from him the Keys and the Sword,And the Mother and Babe brake his Kingdom in two,When the cock crew—when the cock crew—(Because of his wickedness)when the cock crew!THE FEMALE OF THE SPECIES1911When the Himalayan peasant meets the he-bear in his pride,He shouts to scare the monster, who will often turn aside.But the she-bear thus accosted rends the peasant tooth and nailFor the female of the species is more deadly than the male.When Nag the basking cobra hears the careless foot of man,He will sometimes wriggle sideways and avoid it as he can.But his mate makes no such motion where she camps beside the trail.For the female of the species is more deadly than the male.When the early Jesuit fathers preached to Hurons and Choctaws,They prayed to be delivered from the vengeance of the squaws.'Twas the women, not the warriors, turned those stark enthusiasts paleFor the female of the species is more deadly than the male.Man's timid heart is bursting with the things he must not say,For the Woman that God gave him isn't his to give away;But when hunter meets with husband, each confirms the other's tale—The female of the species is more deadly than the male.Man, a bear in most relations—worm and savage otherwise,—Man propounds negotiations, Man accepts the compromise.Very rarely will he squarely push the logic of a factTo its ultimate conclusion in unmitigated act.Fear, or foolishness, impels him, ere he lay the wicked low,To concede some form of trial even to his fiercest foe.Mirth obscene diverts his anger! Doubt and Pity oft perplexHim in dealing with an issue—to the scandal of The Sex!But the Woman that God gave him, every fibre of her frameProves her launched for one sole issue, armed and engined for the same;And to serve that single issue, lest the generations fail,The female of the species must be deadlier than the male.She who faces Death by torture for each life beneath her breastMay not deal in doubt or pity—must not swerve for fact or jest.These be purely male diversions—not in these her honour dwells.She the Other Law we live by, is that Law and nothing else.She can bring no more to living than the powers that make her greatAs the Mother of the Infant and the Mistress of the Mate!And when Babe and Man are lacking and she strides unclaimed to claimHer right as femme (and baron), her equipment is the same.She is wedded to convictions—in default of grosser ties;Her contentions are her children, Heaven help him who denies!—He will meet no suave discussion, but the instant, white-hot, wild,Wakened female of the species warring as for spouse and child.Unprovoked and awful charges—even so the she-bear fights,Speech that drips, corrodes, and poisons—even so the cobra bites,Scientific vivisection of one nerve till it is rawAnd the victim writhes in anguish—like the Jesuit with the squaw!So it comes that Man the coward, when he gathers to conferWith his fellow-braves in council, dare not leave a place for herWhere, at war with Life and Conscience, he uplifts his erring handsTo some God of Abstract Justice—which no woman understands.And Man knows it! Knows, moreover, that the Woman that God gave himMust command but may not govern—shall enthral but not enslave him.AndSheknows, because She warns him and Her instincts never fail,That the Female of Her Species is more deadly than the Male.EPITAPHS'Equality Of Sacrifice'A.'I was a "have."'B.'I was a "have-not."'(Together) 'What hast thou given which I gave not?'A ServantWe were together since the War beganHe was my servant—and the better man.A SonMy son was killed while laughing at some jest. I would I knewWhat it was, and it might serve me in a time when jests are few.An Only SonI have slain none except my Mother, She(Blessing her slayer) died of grief for me.Ex-ClerkPity not! The Army gaveFreedom to a timid slave:In which Freedom did he findStrength of body, will, and mind:By which strength he came to proveMirth, Companionship, and Love:For which Love to Death he went:In which Death he lies content.The WonderBody and Spirit I surrendered wholeTo harsh Instructors—and received a soul …If mortal man could change me through and throughFrom all I was—what may The God not do?Hindu Sepoy in FranceThis man in his own country prayed we know not to what Powers.We pray Them to reward him for his bravery in ours.The CowardI could not look on Death, which being known,Men led me to him, blindfold and alone.ShockMy name, my speech, my self I had forgot.My wife and children came—I knew them not.I died. My Mother followed. At her callAnd on her bosom I remembered all.A Grave near CairoGods of the Nile, should this stout fellow hereGet out—get out! He knows not shame nor fear.Pelicans in the Wilderness(A GRAVE NEAR HALFA)The blown sand heaps on me, that none may learnWhere I am laid for whom my children grieve…O wings that beat at dawning, ye returnOut of the desert to your young at eve!The FavourDeath favoured me from the first, well knowing I could not endureTo wait on him day by day. He quitted my betters and cameWhistling over the fields, and, when he had made all sure,'Thy line is at end,' he said, 'but at least I have saved its name.'The BeginnerOn the first hour of my first dayIn the front trench I fell.(Children in boxes at a playStand up to watch it well.)R. A. F. (Aged Eighteen)Laughing through clouds, his milk-teeth still unshed,Cities and men he smote from overhead.His deaths delivered, he returned to playChildlike, with childish things now put away.The Refined ManI was of delicate mind. I went aside for my needs,Disdaining the common office. I was seen from afar and killed…How is this matter for mirth? Let each man be judged by his deedsI have paid my price to live with myself on the terms that I willed.Native Water-Carrier (M. E. F.)Prometheus brought down fire to men.This brought up water.The Gods are jealous—now, as then,They gave no quarter.Bombed in LondonOn land and sea I strove with anxious careTo escape conscription. It was in the air!The Sleepy SentinelFaithless the watch that I kept: now I have none to keep.I was slain because I slept: now I am slain I sleep.Let no man reproach me again, whatever watch is unkept—I sleep because I am slain. They slew me because I slept.Batteries out of AmmunitionIf any mourn us in the workshop, sayWe died because the shift kept holiday.Common FormIf any question why we died,Tell them, because our fathers lied.A Dead StatesmanI could not dig; I dared not rob:Therefore I lied to please the mob.Now all my lies are proved untrue,And I must face the men I slew.What tale shall save me here amongMine angry and defrauded young?The RebelIf I had clamoured at Thy GateFor gift of Life on Earth,And, thrusting through the souls that wait,Flung headlong into birth—Even then, even then, for gin and snareAbout my pathway spread,Lord, I had mocked Thy thoughtful careBefore I joined the Dead!But now?… I was beneath Thy HandEre yet the Planets came.And now—though Planets pass, I standThe witness to Thy Shame.The ObedientDaily, though no ears attended,Did my prayers ariseDaily, though no fire descendedDid I sacrifice…Though my darkness did not lift,Though I faced no lighter odds,Though the Gods bestowed no gift,None the less,None the less, I served the Gods!A Drifter off TarentumHe from the wind-bitten north with ship and companions descended,Searching for eggs of death spawned by invisible hulls.Many he found and drew forth. Of a sudden the fishery endedIn flame and a clamorous breath not new to the eye-pecking gulls.Destroyers in CollisionFor Fog and Fate no charm is foundTo lighten or amend.I, hurrying to my bride, was drowned—Cut down by my best friend.Convoy EscortI was a shepherd to foolsCauselessly bold or afraid.They would not abide by my rules.Yet they escaped. For I stayed.Unknown Female CorpseHeadless, lacking foot and hand,Horrible I come to land.I beseech all women's sonsKnow I was a mother once.Raped and RevengedOne used and butchered me: another spiedMe broken—for which thing a hundred died.So it was learned among the heathen hostsHow much a freeborn woman's favour costs.Salonikan GraveI have watched a thousand daysPush out and crawl into nightSlowly as tortoisesNow I, too, follow these.It is fever, and not fight—Time, not battle—that slays.The BridegroomCall me not false, beloved,If, from thy scarce-known breastSo little time removed,In other arms I rest.For this more ancient brideWhom coldly I embraceWas constant at my sideBefore I saw thy face.Our marriage, often set—By miracle delayed—At last is consummate,And cannot be unmade.Live, then, whom Life shall cure,Almost, of Memory,And leave us to endureIts immortality.V. A. D. (Mediterranean)Ah, would swift ships had never been, for then we ne'er had found,These harsh Ægean rocks between, this little virgin drowned,Whom neither spouse nor child shall mourn, but men she nursed through painAnd—certain keels for whose return the heathen look in vain.'THE CITY OF BRASS'1909Here was a people whom after their works thou shalt see wept over for their lost dominion: and in this palace is the last information respecting lords collected in the dust.The Arabian NightsIn a land that the sand overlays—the ways to her gates are untrod—A multitude ended their days whose fates were made splendid by God,Till they grew drunk and were smitten with madness and went to their fall,And of these is a story written: but Allah alone knoweth all!When the wine stirred in their heart their bosoms dilated,They rose to suppose themselves kings over all things created—To decree a new earth at a birth without labour or sorrow—To declare: 'We prepare it to-day and inherit to-morrow.'They chose themselves prophets and priests of minute understanding,Men swift to see done, and outrun, their extremest commanding—Of the tribe which describe with a jibe the perversions of Justice—Panders avowed to the crowd whatsoever its lust is.Swiftly these pulled down the walls that their fathers had made them—The impregnable ramparts of old, they razed and relaid themAs playgrounds of pleasure and leisure with limitless entries,And havens of rest for the wastrels where once walked the sentries;And because there was need of more pay for the shouters and marchers,They disbanded in face of their foemen their bowmen and archers.They replied to their well-wishers' fears—to their enemies' laughter,Saying: 'Peace! We have fashioned a God Which shall save us hereafter.We ascribe all dominion to man in his factions conferring,And have given to numbers the Name of the Wisdom unerring.'They said: 'Who has hate in his soul? Who has envied his neighbour?Let him arise and control both that man and his labour.'They said: 'Who is eaten by sloth? Whose unthrift has destroyed him?He shall levy a tribute from all because none have employed him.'They said: 'Who hath toiled? Who hath striven, and gathered possession?Let him be spoiled. He hath given full proof of transgression.'They said. 'Who is irked by the Law?Though we may not remove it,If he lend us his aid in this raid, we will set him above it!'So the robber did judgment again upon such as displeased him,The slayer, too, boasted his slain, and the judges released him.As for their kinsmen far off, on the skirts of the nation,They harried all earth to make sure none escaped reprobation,They awakened unrest for a jest in their newly-won borders,And jeered at the blood of their brethren betrayed by their orders.They instructed the ruled to rebel, their rulers to aid them;And, since such as obeyed them not fell, their Viceroys obeyed them.When the riotous set them at naught they said: 'Praise the upheaval!For the show and the word and the thought of Dominion is evil!'They unwound and flung from them with rage, as a rag that defiled themThe imperial gains of the age which their forefathers piled them.They ran panting in haste to lay waste and embitter for everThe wellsprings of Wisdom and Strength which are Faith and Endeavour.They nosed out and digged up and dragged forth and exposed to derisionAll doctrine of purpose and worth and restraint and prevision:And it ceased, and God granted them all things for which they had striven,And the heart of a beast in the place of a man's heart was given…When they were fullest of wine and most flagrant in error,Out of the sea rose a sign—out of Heaven a terror.Then they saw, then they heard, then they knew—for none troubled to hide it,An host had prepared their destruction, but still they denied it.They denied what they dared not abide if it came to the trial,But the Sword that was forged while they lied did not heed their denial.It drove home, and no time was allowed to the crowd that was driven.The preposterous-minded were cowed—they thought time would be given.There was no need of a steed nor a lance to pursue them;It was decreed their own deed, and not chance, should undo themThe tares they had laughingly sown were ripe to the reaping,The trust they had leagued to disown was removed from their keeping.The eaters of other men's bread, the exempted from hardship,The excusers of impotence fled, abdicating their wardship.For the hate they had taught through the State brought the State no defender,And it passed from the roll of the Nations in headlong surrender.JUSTICEOctober 1918Across a world where all men grieveAnd grieving strive the more,The great days range like tides and leaveOur dead on every shore.Heavy the load we undergo,And our own hands prepare,If we have parley with the foe,The load our sons must bear.Before we loose the wordThat bids new worlds to birth,Needs must we loosen first the swordOf Justice upon earth;Or else all else is vainSince life on earth began,And the spent world sinks back againHopeless of God and Man.A people and their KingThrough ancient sin grown strong,Because they feared no reckoningWould set no bound to wrong;But now their hour is past,And we who bore it findEvil Incarnate held at lastTo answer to mankind.For agony and spoilOf nations beat to dust,For poisoned air and tortured soilAnd cold, commanded lust,And every secret woeThe shuddering waters saw—Willed and fulfilled by high and low—Let them relearn the Law.That when the dooms are read,Not high nor low shall say:—'My haughty or my humble headHas saved me in this day.'That, till the end of time,Their remnant shall recallTheir fathers' old, confederate crimeAvailed them not at all.That neither schools nor priests,Nor Kings may build againA people with the heart of beastsMade wise concerning men.Whereby our dead shall sleepIn honour, unbetrayed,And we in faith and honour keepThat peace for which they paid.Printed byTandA Constable, Printers to His Majesty at the Edinburgh University Press

Money spent on an Army or FleetIs homicidal lunacy…My son has been killed in the Mons retreat.Why is the Lord afflicting me?Why are murder, pillage and arsonAnd rape allowed by the Deity?I will write to theTimes, deriding our parsonBecause my God has afflicted me.

We had a kettle, we let it leak;Our not repairing it made it worse.We haven't had any tea for a week…The bottom is out of the Universe!

This was none of the good Lord's pleasure,For the Spirit He breathed in Man is free;But what comes after is measure for measureAnd not a God that afflicteth thee.As was the sowing so the reapingIs now and evermore shall be.Thou art delivered to thy own keeping.Only Thyself hath afflicted thee!

'Ille autem iterum negavit.'

The first time that Peter deniéd his LordHe shrank from the cudgel, the scourge and the cord,But followed far off to see what they would do,Till the cock crew—till the cock crew—After Gethsemane, till the cock crew!The first time that Peter deniéd his Lord'Twas only a maid in the palace who heard,As he sat by the fire and warmed himself through.Then the cock crew! Then the cock crew!('Thou also art one of them.') Then the cock crew!The first time that Peter deniéd his LordHe had neither the Throne, nor the Keys nor the Sword—A poor silly fisherman, what could he doWhen the cock crew—when the cock crew—But weep for his wickedness when the cock crew?The next time that Peter deniéd his LordHe was Fisher of Men, as foretold by the Word,With the Crown on his brow and the Cross on his shoe,When the cock crew—when the cock crew—In Flanders and Picardy when the cock crew.The next time that Peter deniéd his Lord'Twas Mary the Mother in Heaven Who heard,And She grieved for the maidens and wives that they slewWhen the cock crew—when the cock crew—At Tirmonde and Aerschott when the cock crew.The next time that Peter deniéd his LordThe Babe in the Manger awakened and stirred,And He stretched out His arms for the playmates He knew—When the cock crew—when the cock crew—But the waters had covered them when the cock crew.The next time that Peter deniéd his Lord'Twas Earth in her agony waited his word,But he sat by the fire and naught would he do,Though the cock crew—though the cock crew—Over all Christendom, though the cock crew.The last time that Peter deniéd his Lord,The Father took from him the Keys and the Sword,And the Mother and Babe brake his Kingdom in two,When the cock crew—when the cock crew—(Because of his wickedness)when the cock crew!

The first time that Peter deniéd his Lord'Twas only a maid in the palace who heard,As he sat by the fire and warmed himself through.Then the cock crew! Then the cock crew!('Thou also art one of them.') Then the cock crew!

The first time that Peter deniéd his LordHe had neither the Throne, nor the Keys nor the Sword—A poor silly fisherman, what could he doWhen the cock crew—when the cock crew—But weep for his wickedness when the cock crew?

The next time that Peter deniéd his LordHe was Fisher of Men, as foretold by the Word,With the Crown on his brow and the Cross on his shoe,When the cock crew—when the cock crew—In Flanders and Picardy when the cock crew.

The next time that Peter deniéd his Lord'Twas Mary the Mother in Heaven Who heard,And She grieved for the maidens and wives that they slewWhen the cock crew—when the cock crew—At Tirmonde and Aerschott when the cock crew.

The next time that Peter deniéd his LordThe Babe in the Manger awakened and stirred,And He stretched out His arms for the playmates He knew—When the cock crew—when the cock crew—But the waters had covered them when the cock crew.

The next time that Peter deniéd his Lord'Twas Earth in her agony waited his word,But he sat by the fire and naught would he do,Though the cock crew—though the cock crew—Over all Christendom, though the cock crew.

The last time that Peter deniéd his Lord,The Father took from him the Keys and the Sword,And the Mother and Babe brake his Kingdom in two,When the cock crew—when the cock crew—(Because of his wickedness)when the cock crew!

1911

When the Himalayan peasant meets the he-bear in his pride,He shouts to scare the monster, who will often turn aside.But the she-bear thus accosted rends the peasant tooth and nailFor the female of the species is more deadly than the male.When Nag the basking cobra hears the careless foot of man,He will sometimes wriggle sideways and avoid it as he can.But his mate makes no such motion where she camps beside the trail.For the female of the species is more deadly than the male.When the early Jesuit fathers preached to Hurons and Choctaws,They prayed to be delivered from the vengeance of the squaws.'Twas the women, not the warriors, turned those stark enthusiasts paleFor the female of the species is more deadly than the male.Man's timid heart is bursting with the things he must not say,For the Woman that God gave him isn't his to give away;But when hunter meets with husband, each confirms the other's tale—The female of the species is more deadly than the male.Man, a bear in most relations—worm and savage otherwise,—Man propounds negotiations, Man accepts the compromise.Very rarely will he squarely push the logic of a factTo its ultimate conclusion in unmitigated act.Fear, or foolishness, impels him, ere he lay the wicked low,To concede some form of trial even to his fiercest foe.Mirth obscene diverts his anger! Doubt and Pity oft perplexHim in dealing with an issue—to the scandal of The Sex!But the Woman that God gave him, every fibre of her frameProves her launched for one sole issue, armed and engined for the same;And to serve that single issue, lest the generations fail,The female of the species must be deadlier than the male.She who faces Death by torture for each life beneath her breastMay not deal in doubt or pity—must not swerve for fact or jest.These be purely male diversions—not in these her honour dwells.She the Other Law we live by, is that Law and nothing else.She can bring no more to living than the powers that make her greatAs the Mother of the Infant and the Mistress of the Mate!And when Babe and Man are lacking and she strides unclaimed to claimHer right as femme (and baron), her equipment is the same.She is wedded to convictions—in default of grosser ties;Her contentions are her children, Heaven help him who denies!—He will meet no suave discussion, but the instant, white-hot, wild,Wakened female of the species warring as for spouse and child.Unprovoked and awful charges—even so the she-bear fights,Speech that drips, corrodes, and poisons—even so the cobra bites,Scientific vivisection of one nerve till it is rawAnd the victim writhes in anguish—like the Jesuit with the squaw!So it comes that Man the coward, when he gathers to conferWith his fellow-braves in council, dare not leave a place for herWhere, at war with Life and Conscience, he uplifts his erring handsTo some God of Abstract Justice—which no woman understands.And Man knows it! Knows, moreover, that the Woman that God gave himMust command but may not govern—shall enthral but not enslave him.AndSheknows, because She warns him and Her instincts never fail,That the Female of Her Species is more deadly than the Male.

When Nag the basking cobra hears the careless foot of man,He will sometimes wriggle sideways and avoid it as he can.But his mate makes no such motion where she camps beside the trail.For the female of the species is more deadly than the male.

When the early Jesuit fathers preached to Hurons and Choctaws,They prayed to be delivered from the vengeance of the squaws.'Twas the women, not the warriors, turned those stark enthusiasts paleFor the female of the species is more deadly than the male.

Man's timid heart is bursting with the things he must not say,For the Woman that God gave him isn't his to give away;But when hunter meets with husband, each confirms the other's tale—The female of the species is more deadly than the male.

Man, a bear in most relations—worm and savage otherwise,—Man propounds negotiations, Man accepts the compromise.Very rarely will he squarely push the logic of a factTo its ultimate conclusion in unmitigated act.

Fear, or foolishness, impels him, ere he lay the wicked low,To concede some form of trial even to his fiercest foe.Mirth obscene diverts his anger! Doubt and Pity oft perplexHim in dealing with an issue—to the scandal of The Sex!

But the Woman that God gave him, every fibre of her frameProves her launched for one sole issue, armed and engined for the same;And to serve that single issue, lest the generations fail,The female of the species must be deadlier than the male.

She who faces Death by torture for each life beneath her breastMay not deal in doubt or pity—must not swerve for fact or jest.These be purely male diversions—not in these her honour dwells.She the Other Law we live by, is that Law and nothing else.

She can bring no more to living than the powers that make her greatAs the Mother of the Infant and the Mistress of the Mate!And when Babe and Man are lacking and she strides unclaimed to claimHer right as femme (and baron), her equipment is the same.

She is wedded to convictions—in default of grosser ties;Her contentions are her children, Heaven help him who denies!—He will meet no suave discussion, but the instant, white-hot, wild,Wakened female of the species warring as for spouse and child.

Unprovoked and awful charges—even so the she-bear fights,Speech that drips, corrodes, and poisons—even so the cobra bites,Scientific vivisection of one nerve till it is rawAnd the victim writhes in anguish—like the Jesuit with the squaw!

So it comes that Man the coward, when he gathers to conferWith his fellow-braves in council, dare not leave a place for herWhere, at war with Life and Conscience, he uplifts his erring handsTo some God of Abstract Justice—which no woman understands.

And Man knows it! Knows, moreover, that the Woman that God gave himMust command but may not govern—shall enthral but not enslave him.AndSheknows, because She warns him and Her instincts never fail,That the Female of Her Species is more deadly than the Male.

A.'I was a "have."'B.'I was a "have-not."'(Together) 'What hast thou given which I gave not?'

We were together since the War beganHe was my servant—and the better man.

My son was killed while laughing at some jest. I would I knewWhat it was, and it might serve me in a time when jests are few.

I have slain none except my Mother, She(Blessing her slayer) died of grief for me.

Pity not! The Army gaveFreedom to a timid slave:In which Freedom did he findStrength of body, will, and mind:By which strength he came to proveMirth, Companionship, and Love:For which Love to Death he went:In which Death he lies content.

Body and Spirit I surrendered wholeTo harsh Instructors—and received a soul …If mortal man could change me through and throughFrom all I was—what may The God not do?

This man in his own country prayed we know not to what Powers.We pray Them to reward him for his bravery in ours.

I could not look on Death, which being known,Men led me to him, blindfold and alone.

My name, my speech, my self I had forgot.My wife and children came—I knew them not.I died. My Mother followed. At her callAnd on her bosom I remembered all.

Gods of the Nile, should this stout fellow hereGet out—get out! He knows not shame nor fear.

The blown sand heaps on me, that none may learnWhere I am laid for whom my children grieve…O wings that beat at dawning, ye returnOut of the desert to your young at eve!

Death favoured me from the first, well knowing I could not endureTo wait on him day by day. He quitted my betters and cameWhistling over the fields, and, when he had made all sure,'Thy line is at end,' he said, 'but at least I have saved its name.'

On the first hour of my first dayIn the front trench I fell.(Children in boxes at a playStand up to watch it well.)

Laughing through clouds, his milk-teeth still unshed,Cities and men he smote from overhead.His deaths delivered, he returned to playChildlike, with childish things now put away.

I was of delicate mind. I went aside for my needs,Disdaining the common office. I was seen from afar and killed…How is this matter for mirth? Let each man be judged by his deedsI have paid my price to live with myself on the terms that I willed.

Prometheus brought down fire to men.This brought up water.The Gods are jealous—now, as then,They gave no quarter.

On land and sea I strove with anxious careTo escape conscription. It was in the air!

Faithless the watch that I kept: now I have none to keep.I was slain because I slept: now I am slain I sleep.Let no man reproach me again, whatever watch is unkept—I sleep because I am slain. They slew me because I slept.

If any mourn us in the workshop, sayWe died because the shift kept holiday.

If any question why we died,Tell them, because our fathers lied.

I could not dig; I dared not rob:Therefore I lied to please the mob.Now all my lies are proved untrue,And I must face the men I slew.What tale shall save me here amongMine angry and defrauded young?

If I had clamoured at Thy GateFor gift of Life on Earth,And, thrusting through the souls that wait,Flung headlong into birth—Even then, even then, for gin and snareAbout my pathway spread,Lord, I had mocked Thy thoughtful careBefore I joined the Dead!But now?… I was beneath Thy HandEre yet the Planets came.And now—though Planets pass, I standThe witness to Thy Shame.

Daily, though no ears attended,Did my prayers ariseDaily, though no fire descendedDid I sacrifice…Though my darkness did not lift,Though I faced no lighter odds,Though the Gods bestowed no gift,None the less,None the less, I served the Gods!

He from the wind-bitten north with ship and companions descended,Searching for eggs of death spawned by invisible hulls.Many he found and drew forth. Of a sudden the fishery endedIn flame and a clamorous breath not new to the eye-pecking gulls.

For Fog and Fate no charm is foundTo lighten or amend.I, hurrying to my bride, was drowned—Cut down by my best friend.

I was a shepherd to foolsCauselessly bold or afraid.They would not abide by my rules.Yet they escaped. For I stayed.

Headless, lacking foot and hand,Horrible I come to land.I beseech all women's sonsKnow I was a mother once.

One used and butchered me: another spiedMe broken—for which thing a hundred died.So it was learned among the heathen hostsHow much a freeborn woman's favour costs.

I have watched a thousand daysPush out and crawl into nightSlowly as tortoisesNow I, too, follow these.It is fever, and not fight—Time, not battle—that slays.

Call me not false, beloved,If, from thy scarce-known breastSo little time removed,In other arms I rest.For this more ancient brideWhom coldly I embraceWas constant at my sideBefore I saw thy face.Our marriage, often set—By miracle delayed—At last is consummate,And cannot be unmade.Live, then, whom Life shall cure,Almost, of Memory,And leave us to endureIts immortality.

Call me not false, beloved,If, from thy scarce-known breastSo little time removed,In other arms I rest.

For this more ancient brideWhom coldly I embraceWas constant at my sideBefore I saw thy face.

Our marriage, often set—By miracle delayed—At last is consummate,And cannot be unmade.

Live, then, whom Life shall cure,Almost, of Memory,And leave us to endureIts immortality.

Ah, would swift ships had never been, for then we ne'er had found,These harsh Ægean rocks between, this little virgin drowned,Whom neither spouse nor child shall mourn, but men she nursed through painAnd—certain keels for whose return the heathen look in vain.

1909

Here was a people whom after their works thou shalt see wept over for their lost dominion: and in this palace is the last information respecting lords collected in the dust.The Arabian Nights

In a land that the sand overlays—the ways to her gates are untrod—A multitude ended their days whose fates were made splendid by God,Till they grew drunk and were smitten with madness and went to their fall,And of these is a story written: but Allah alone knoweth all!When the wine stirred in their heart their bosoms dilated,They rose to suppose themselves kings over all things created—To decree a new earth at a birth without labour or sorrow—To declare: 'We prepare it to-day and inherit to-morrow.'They chose themselves prophets and priests of minute understanding,Men swift to see done, and outrun, their extremest commanding—Of the tribe which describe with a jibe the perversions of Justice—Panders avowed to the crowd whatsoever its lust is.Swiftly these pulled down the walls that their fathers had made them—The impregnable ramparts of old, they razed and relaid themAs playgrounds of pleasure and leisure with limitless entries,And havens of rest for the wastrels where once walked the sentries;And because there was need of more pay for the shouters and marchers,They disbanded in face of their foemen their bowmen and archers.They replied to their well-wishers' fears—to their enemies' laughter,Saying: 'Peace! We have fashioned a God Which shall save us hereafter.We ascribe all dominion to man in his factions conferring,And have given to numbers the Name of the Wisdom unerring.'They said: 'Who has hate in his soul? Who has envied his neighbour?Let him arise and control both that man and his labour.'They said: 'Who is eaten by sloth? Whose unthrift has destroyed him?He shall levy a tribute from all because none have employed him.'They said: 'Who hath toiled? Who hath striven, and gathered possession?Let him be spoiled. He hath given full proof of transgression.'They said. 'Who is irked by the Law?Though we may not remove it,If he lend us his aid in this raid, we will set him above it!'So the robber did judgment again upon such as displeased him,The slayer, too, boasted his slain, and the judges released him.As for their kinsmen far off, on the skirts of the nation,They harried all earth to make sure none escaped reprobation,They awakened unrest for a jest in their newly-won borders,And jeered at the blood of their brethren betrayed by their orders.They instructed the ruled to rebel, their rulers to aid them;And, since such as obeyed them not fell, their Viceroys obeyed them.When the riotous set them at naught they said: 'Praise the upheaval!For the show and the word and the thought of Dominion is evil!'They unwound and flung from them with rage, as a rag that defiled themThe imperial gains of the age which their forefathers piled them.They ran panting in haste to lay waste and embitter for everThe wellsprings of Wisdom and Strength which are Faith and Endeavour.They nosed out and digged up and dragged forth and exposed to derisionAll doctrine of purpose and worth and restraint and prevision:And it ceased, and God granted them all things for which they had striven,And the heart of a beast in the place of a man's heart was given…When they were fullest of wine and most flagrant in error,Out of the sea rose a sign—out of Heaven a terror.Then they saw, then they heard, then they knew—for none troubled to hide it,An host had prepared their destruction, but still they denied it.They denied what they dared not abide if it came to the trial,But the Sword that was forged while they lied did not heed their denial.It drove home, and no time was allowed to the crowd that was driven.The preposterous-minded were cowed—they thought time would be given.There was no need of a steed nor a lance to pursue them;It was decreed their own deed, and not chance, should undo themThe tares they had laughingly sown were ripe to the reaping,The trust they had leagued to disown was removed from their keeping.The eaters of other men's bread, the exempted from hardship,The excusers of impotence fled, abdicating their wardship.For the hate they had taught through the State brought the State no defender,And it passed from the roll of the Nations in headlong surrender.

When the wine stirred in their heart their bosoms dilated,They rose to suppose themselves kings over all things created—To decree a new earth at a birth without labour or sorrow—To declare: 'We prepare it to-day and inherit to-morrow.'They chose themselves prophets and priests of minute understanding,Men swift to see done, and outrun, their extremest commanding—Of the tribe which describe with a jibe the perversions of Justice—Panders avowed to the crowd whatsoever its lust is.

Swiftly these pulled down the walls that their fathers had made them—The impregnable ramparts of old, they razed and relaid themAs playgrounds of pleasure and leisure with limitless entries,And havens of rest for the wastrels where once walked the sentries;And because there was need of more pay for the shouters and marchers,They disbanded in face of their foemen their bowmen and archers.They replied to their well-wishers' fears—to their enemies' laughter,Saying: 'Peace! We have fashioned a God Which shall save us hereafter.We ascribe all dominion to man in his factions conferring,And have given to numbers the Name of the Wisdom unerring.'They said: 'Who has hate in his soul? Who has envied his neighbour?Let him arise and control both that man and his labour.'They said: 'Who is eaten by sloth? Whose unthrift has destroyed him?He shall levy a tribute from all because none have employed him.'They said: 'Who hath toiled? Who hath striven, and gathered possession?Let him be spoiled. He hath given full proof of transgression.'They said. 'Who is irked by the Law?Though we may not remove it,If he lend us his aid in this raid, we will set him above it!'So the robber did judgment again upon such as displeased him,The slayer, too, boasted his slain, and the judges released him.

As for their kinsmen far off, on the skirts of the nation,They harried all earth to make sure none escaped reprobation,They awakened unrest for a jest in their newly-won borders,And jeered at the blood of their brethren betrayed by their orders.They instructed the ruled to rebel, their rulers to aid them;And, since such as obeyed them not fell, their Viceroys obeyed them.When the riotous set them at naught they said: 'Praise the upheaval!For the show and the word and the thought of Dominion is evil!'

They unwound and flung from them with rage, as a rag that defiled themThe imperial gains of the age which their forefathers piled them.They ran panting in haste to lay waste and embitter for everThe wellsprings of Wisdom and Strength which are Faith and Endeavour.They nosed out and digged up and dragged forth and exposed to derisionAll doctrine of purpose and worth and restraint and prevision:And it ceased, and God granted them all things for which they had striven,And the heart of a beast in the place of a man's heart was given…

When they were fullest of wine and most flagrant in error,Out of the sea rose a sign—out of Heaven a terror.Then they saw, then they heard, then they knew—for none troubled to hide it,An host had prepared their destruction, but still they denied it.They denied what they dared not abide if it came to the trial,But the Sword that was forged while they lied did not heed their denial.It drove home, and no time was allowed to the crowd that was driven.The preposterous-minded were cowed—they thought time would be given.There was no need of a steed nor a lance to pursue them;It was decreed their own deed, and not chance, should undo themThe tares they had laughingly sown were ripe to the reaping,The trust they had leagued to disown was removed from their keeping.The eaters of other men's bread, the exempted from hardship,The excusers of impotence fled, abdicating their wardship.For the hate they had taught through the State brought the State no defender,And it passed from the roll of the Nations in headlong surrender.

October 1918

Across a world where all men grieveAnd grieving strive the more,The great days range like tides and leaveOur dead on every shore.Heavy the load we undergo,And our own hands prepare,If we have parley with the foe,The load our sons must bear.Before we loose the wordThat bids new worlds to birth,Needs must we loosen first the swordOf Justice upon earth;Or else all else is vainSince life on earth began,And the spent world sinks back againHopeless of God and Man.A people and their KingThrough ancient sin grown strong,Because they feared no reckoningWould set no bound to wrong;But now their hour is past,And we who bore it findEvil Incarnate held at lastTo answer to mankind.For agony and spoilOf nations beat to dust,For poisoned air and tortured soilAnd cold, commanded lust,And every secret woeThe shuddering waters saw—Willed and fulfilled by high and low—Let them relearn the Law.That when the dooms are read,Not high nor low shall say:—'My haughty or my humble headHas saved me in this day.'That, till the end of time,Their remnant shall recallTheir fathers' old, confederate crimeAvailed them not at all.That neither schools nor priests,Nor Kings may build againA people with the heart of beastsMade wise concerning men.Whereby our dead shall sleepIn honour, unbetrayed,And we in faith and honour keepThat peace for which they paid.

Before we loose the wordThat bids new worlds to birth,Needs must we loosen first the swordOf Justice upon earth;Or else all else is vainSince life on earth began,And the spent world sinks back againHopeless of God and Man.

A people and their KingThrough ancient sin grown strong,Because they feared no reckoningWould set no bound to wrong;But now their hour is past,And we who bore it findEvil Incarnate held at lastTo answer to mankind.

For agony and spoilOf nations beat to dust,For poisoned air and tortured soilAnd cold, commanded lust,And every secret woeThe shuddering waters saw—Willed and fulfilled by high and low—Let them relearn the Law.

That when the dooms are read,Not high nor low shall say:—'My haughty or my humble headHas saved me in this day.'That, till the end of time,Their remnant shall recallTheir fathers' old, confederate crimeAvailed them not at all.

That neither schools nor priests,Nor Kings may build againA people with the heart of beastsMade wise concerning men.Whereby our dead shall sleepIn honour, unbetrayed,And we in faith and honour keepThat peace for which they paid.

Printed byTandA Constable, Printers to His Majesty at the Edinburgh University Press

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