SHAKSPEARE AND THE WAR.
[Since the entry of the United States all the English-speaking peoples are in alliance for freedom.]
I think our SHAKSPEARE, gone this many a year
To some rich haven where the poets throng
And Ruler of Ten Cities wrought in song
And spired with rhythmic music, high and clear,
Still finds his England something close and dear,
Rejoicing when her justice baffles wrong
And willing her to wrestle and be strong.
I think he bides by England and is near.
And, in the purpose of his Overlord,
His weaving spirit, still in cloudless youth
With minstrelsy made perfect, throws a cord
That rings the continents in its magic reach
To gather all who share his English speech
In one firm warrior bond of troth and truth.