“When I was ordered out——”
Lord Roberts, in a letter to the writer.
Prouder to serve than to command was he:
“When I was ordered”—thus a soldier’s soul
Answered, as from the ranks, the muster roll,
When came the call: “England hath need of thee.”
At Duty’s bidding, not by Glory lured,
For peace, not war, he strove; and peace was his—
Not the base peace which more disastrous is
Than war, but peace abiding and assured.
Thereafter followed long, untroubled years,
Wherein some said: “See rise the star of peace,
The morn of Arbitration. Wars must cease.
Away with sword and shield—Millennium nears!”
“Keep shield to breast, keep bright your sword, and drawn!”
Rang out his answer. “On the horizon’s rim
I see great armies gather, and the dim,
Grey mists of Armageddon’s bloody dawn!”
Few heeded, many scoffed, some merry grew,
And “Dotard!” cried, because, for England’s sake
For whom his son lay dead, he bade her wake,
And a great soldier spoke of what he knew.
Yet spoke—distasteful task!—against his will;
Death he had dared, but dared not silent be—
That were to England blackest treachery—
Wherefore he spoke: his voice is sounding still!
Even the while he spoke, the while they mocked
(With silent dignity their taunts were borne),
Europe, that laughing rose, as ’twere at morn,
At night, distraught, and in delirium rocked.