Then your true heart was stirr’d,
Your arm raised, and your word
Went forth, forecasting
That the great war should cease
In British bonds of peace,
Peace everlasting.
The good God bless this day,
And we for ever and aye
Keep our love living,
Till all men ’neath heaven’s dome
Sing Freedom’s Harvest-home
In one Thanksgiving!
TO AUSTRALIA
WITH THE WOUNDED AND THE SURVIVORS OF 1914 RETURNING HOME IN AUTUMN, 1918.
A loving message at Christmastide,
Sent round the world to the underside
A-sail in the ship that across the foam
Carries the wounded Aussies home,
Who rallied at War’s far-thundering call,
When England stood with her back to the wall,
To fight for Freedom, that ne’er shall die
So long as on earth the old flag fly.
O hearts so loving, eager and bold—
Whose praise hath claim to be writ on the sky
In letters of gold, of fire and gold—
Never shall prouder tale be told,
Than how ye fought as the knights of old
“Against the heathen in Turkye
In Flanders Artois and Picardie:”
But above all triumph that else ye have won
This is the goodliest deed ye have done,
To have seal’d with blood in a desperate day
The love-bond that binds us for ever and aye.
THE EXCELLENT WAY
Man’s mind that hath this earth for home
Hath too its far-spread starry dome
Where thought is lost in going free,
Prison’d but by infinity.
He first in slumbrous babyhood
Took conscience of his heavenly good;
Then with his sins grown up to youth
Wept at the vision of God’s truth.
Soon in his heart new hopes awoke
As poet sang or prophet spoke:
Temples arose and stone he taught
To stand agaze in trancèd thought:
He won the trembling air to tell
Of far passions ineffable,
Feeding the hungry things of sense
With instincts of omniscience,
Immortal modes that should abide
Cherish’d by love and pious pride,
That unborn children might inherit
The triumph of his holy spirit,
Outbidding Nature, to entice
Her soul from her own Paradise,
Till her wild face had fallen to shame
Had he not praised her in God’s name.