IV.
Yet here and there a lonely tree
Still sounds a mournful melody,
And answering, in low refrain,
The winds repeat the solemn strain,
Until the hills conscious of harm,
Awaken in a wild alarm,
Until, with trumpets to the sky,
They echo up to Heaven the cry:—
Ye Forests, rouse—shake off thy shroud,
And sound a protest, long and loud;
Ye Mountains, speak, and Heaven, chide
This carelessness of Christmastide—
And Man, thou prodigal of Time,
Bestir thyself—and heed my rhyme,
And curb this crime of Christmastime.
[THE MINER.]
For there no glorious morning light
Is burning in a cloudless sky
And there no banners flaming bright,
Are lifted heaven-high,
But that lone miner, far from sight,
Treads boundless realms of boundless night.
There neither brook nor lovely lawn
Allures the miner's weary eye,
For, having caught one glimpse of dawn,
With many an anxious sigh,
Those precious lights are left in pawn
To be by fainter hearts withdrawn.
Nor tender leaf nor fragrant flower
Dare penetrate that fearful gloom,
Where, low beneath a crumbling tower,
Or dark, resounding room,
Yon miner, in some evil hour,
A ruined prisoner may cower.
Yet, while the day is speeding on,
Far from those skies that shine so clear,
Far from the glory of the sun
And happy birds that cheer—
Hark!—through those echoing caves, anon
The hammer's merry monotone.
There, far from every happy sound
Of blithesome bird or cheerful song,
In yonder solitudes profound,
The miner, all day long,
Hears his own music echo round
Those deep-voiced caverns underground.
There, in that gloom which doth affright
Faint-hearted, sky-enamoured men,
The miner, with his little light,
Hews out a hollow den,
And seems to find some keen delight
Where others see but noisesome night.
Thus many a heart, along life's way,
Must labor where no cheerful sun
Of golden hopes or pleasures gay,
Shines till the day is done,
For where the deepest shadows play
The purest hearts are led astray.
Yet some, unseen by careless Fate,
Know naught of gloom or sorrow here.
But happily, with hearts elate,
They walk a charmed sphere,
And lightly laugh, or lightly prate
Of lonely souls left desolate.
So are we miners, great and small,
By sunny slope or lower gloom,
And day by day we hear a call
As from the distant tomb,
But, when the evening shadows fall,
The lights of home will gleam for all.
[LOVE OF COUNTRY.]
Love of country is the life of war;
Love not your country then,
If loving it should lead you into war—
Should lead you into hatred
Of your neighbor's country—lead you
To strike down even unto death
Your brother who so resembles you,
Made in your image, and in the likeness
Of the living God.
[THE SINKING OF THE TITANIC]
For she is shod with iron and her frame is built of oak,
And stout hearts man the vessel, wherefore the captain spoke;
And with naught for pleasure lacking, so stately and so fair,
She seems a floating palace—fit for angels living there.
So "farewell," says merry England, "farewell" says each green isle,
"And blessings for this noble ship on her initial trial,
And praise be to her makers, and good-will to her crew,
And safety to her passengers"—take this as our adieu.
O there were pleasant partings as the vessel sail'd away,
And there was joy in every heart that pleasant April day,
And there were happy thoughts of home—of meeting kith and kin,
For the stately vessel soon would be her harbor safe within.
And so blue the sky above them and so blue the wave beneath,
That all,—all thought of living and no one thought of death,
As, hour by hour, the vessel left England far behind,
And, hour by hour, the ship sped on as speeds an ocean wind.
And when night came, with fond good-nights the floating city slept,
Yet ever o'er the rolling waves the mighty vessel swept,
And no one thought of danger—until with thunderous roar,
The great ship struck the rock-like ice, and shook from floor to floor.
Then there was breaking timbers, and bulging plates of steel,
And noise of great commotion along that vessel's keel—
Then there were cries of anguish, and curses from rough men,
And earnest prayers for safety—O prayers for safety then.
For women wept in terror, and stout men drop'd a tear,
And the shouting and the tumult was maddening to hear,
Yet there amidst that seething the life-boats, one by one,
Were set adrift at midnight—where cold sea-rivers run.
Then, on that fated vessel, the thousand waited there
In hope some sea-born sister would snatch them from despair,
But no ship came to aid her, and, in the dead of night,
The noble ship Titanic sank suddenly from sight.
O midway in old ocean, in her darkest, deepest gloom,
A thousand brave hearts bravely went down to meet their doom,—
And what a tragic picture!—Oh, what a solemn sight
Upon that fated vessel with the stars still shining bright!
Then there was time for thinking—O time enough to spare,
And there was time for cursing and time enough for pray'r,—
Time,—time for retrospection, and time enough to die,
Time, time for life's great tragedy—and time to reason why.
That was the greatest battle that ever yet was fought;
That was the greatest picture on any canvas wrought;
That was the greatest lesson that mortal man can teach;
That was the greatest sermon that priests of earth can preach.
Yet no one fought that battle with saber or with gun,
And no one saw that picture, save those brave hearts alone,
And no one read that lesson there written in the dark,
And no one heard that sermon that went straight to its mark.
Nor shall we know their story, the saddest of the sea,
Or shall we learn the sequel, the sorrow yet to be,
But long shall we remember how brave men bravely died
For some poor, lowly woman with a baby at her side.
And when the world gets scorning the greatest of the great,
When poverty sits cursing the man of large estate,
O then let men remember, how, in that awful hour,
The wealth of all the world was powerless in its power.
[WAR AND PEACE.]
War is wrong—war is wrong;
This the burden of my song:
War is wrong—war is wrong—
Sound the pean, human tongue;
Let the message far be flung—
Sound it, sound it heaven-high,
Sound it to the starry sky,
And Heaven, repeat the echoing,
Till all the earth of peace shall sing.
Peace loves day, but war loves night;
Peace loves calmness, war—to fight
In the wrong or in the right;
Peace the hungry man gives bread,
War would give a stone instead;
Peace is honest—not so war,
Crying—any way is fair;
Peace loves life—War loves the dead
With a halo overhead;
Peace pleads justice—War cries might
In the wrong or in the right;
Peace pleads—love your fellow-man,
War cries—kill him if you can;
Peace no evil thing would slight,
Yet while daring dares not fight,
Knowing might makes nothing right;
Peace means liberty and life,
War means enmity and strife;
Peace means plenty, peace means power,
War means—hell, and would devour
All who do not trust its power;
Peace means joy and love tomorrow,
War means hatred, death and sorrow;
Peace says—Bless you—men are brothers,
War says—Damn you, and all others.
War is hell, war is hell!—
This is what the war-men yell;
War is wrong, war is wrong—
This the burden of my song;
War is wrong, war is wrong,
There never was a just one,
Never;
There never was a just one,
Never.
True as two from two leaves none,
True as days are never done,
True as rivers downward run,
True as heaven holds the sun,—
War is wrong, war is wrong,
There never was a just one,
Never;
There never was a just one,
Never—
Sound the message, human tongue,
Sound it, sound it heaven-high,
Sound it to the starry sky,
And Heaven, repeat the echoing
Till all the earth of peace shall sing.
[PEACE AND WAR.]
Blest is that man who first cries peace,
But curst is he who first cries war,
For war is murder. It must cease
Forever and from everywhere.
[TO ANDREW CARNEGIE.]
Transcriber's notes:
The index entries for "The Miner" and "Love of Country" have been moved from after "The Sinking of the Titanic".
In "The Miner" a stanza break was inserted before the line "Nor tender leaf nor fragrant flower".
The following is a list of other changes made to the original. The first line is the original line, the second the corrected one.
And prohesy too plainly the unseen;
And prophesy too plainly the unseen;
As mocks advce and takes a happy pace,
As mocks advice and takes a happy pace,
These, his instructors, will reherse him well,
These, his instructors, will rehearse him well,
Ringing shot and shreiking shell,
Ringing shot and shrieking shell,
Thou are also a friend of liberty,—
Thou art also a friend of liberty,—
Believeth man's red carnage soon should cease,
Believest man's red carnage soon should cease,