POEMS OF OPTIMISM ***
Transcribed from the 1919 (UK) edition by David Price, email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk
POEMS OF OPTIMISM
Contents: War Greater Britain Belgium Knitting Mobilisation Neutral A book for the King The men-made gods The Ghosts The poet's theme Europe After The peace angel Peace should not come Miscellaneous The Winds of Fate Beauty The invisible helpers To the women of Australia Replies Earth bound A successful man Unsatisfied Separation To the teachers of the young Beauty making On Avon's breast I saw a stately swan The little go-cart I am running forth to meet you Martyrs of peace Home The eternal now If I were a man, a young man We must send them out to play Protest Reward This is my task The statue Behold the earth What they saw His last letter A dialogue A wish Justice An old song Oh, poor, sick world Praise day Interlude The land of the gone-away-souls The harp's song The pendulum An old-fashioned type The sword Love and the seasons A naughty little comet The last dance A vagabond mind My flower room My faith Arrow and bow If we should meet him Faith The secret of prayer The answer A vision The second coming
GREATER BRITAIN
Our hearts were not set on fighting, We did not pant for the fray, And whatever wrongs need righting, We would not have met that way. But the way that has opened before us Leads on thro' a blood-red field; And we swear by the great God o'er us, We will die, but we will not yield.
The battle is not of our making, And war was never our plan; Yet, all that is sweet forsaking, We march to it, man by man. It is either to smite, or be smitten, There's no other choice to-day; And we live, as befits the Briton, Or we die, as the Briton may.
We were not fashioned for cages, Or to feed from a keeper's hand; Our strength which has grown thro' ages Is the strength of a slave-free land. We cannot kneel down to a master, To our God alone can we pray; And we stand in this world disaster, To fight, like a lion at bay.
BELGIUM
Ruined? destroyed? Ah, no; though blood in rivers ran Down all her ancient streets; though treasures manifold Love-wrought, Time-mellowed, and beyond the price of gold Are lost, yet Belgium's star shines still in God's vast plan.
Rarely have Kings been great, since kingdoms first began; Rarely have great kings been great men, when all was told. But, by the lighted torch in mailed hands, behold, Immortal Belgium's immortal king, and Man.
KNITTING
At the concert and the play Everywhere you see them sitting, Knitting, knitting. Women who the other day Thought of nothing but their frocks Or their jewels or their locks, Women who have lived for pleasure, Who have known no work but leisure, Now are knitting, knitting, knitting For the soldiers over there.
On the trains and on the ships With a diligence befitting, They are knitting. Some with smiles upon their lips, Some with manners debonair, Some with earnest look and air. But each heart in its own fashion, Weaves in pity and compassion In their knitting, knitting, knitting For the soldiers over there.
Hurried women to and fro From their homes to labour flitting, Knitting, knitting, Busy handed come and go. Broken bits of time they spare, Just to feel they do their share, Just to keep life's sense of beauty In the doing of a duty, They are knitting, knitting, knitting For the soldiers over there.
MOBILISATION
Oh the Kings of earth have mobilised their men. See them moving, valour proving, To the fields of glory going, Banners flowing, bugles blowing, Every one a mother's son, Brave with uniform and gun, Keeping step with easy swing, Yes, with easy step and light marching onward to the fight, Just to please the warlike fancy of a King; Who has mobilised his army for the strife.
