I
TO WILLIAM WATSON IN ENGLAND
Singer of England’s ire across the sea,
Your austere voice, electric from the deep,
Speaks our own yearning, and our spirits sweep
To Europe’s allied honor.—Painfully,
Bowed with a planet’s lonely burden, we
Held our hot hearts in leash, but now they leap
Their ban, like young hounds belling from their keep,
To bait the Teuton wolf of tyranny.
What! Would he throw us sops of sugared art
And poisoned commerce, snarling: “So! lie still
Till I have shown my fangs, and torn the heart
Of half the world, and gorged my sanguine fill!”—
Now, England, let him see: Rage as he will,
He cannot tear our plighted souls apart.
II
AMERICAN NEUTRALITY
How shall we keep an armed neutrality
With our own souls? Our souls belie our lips,
That seek to hold our passion in eclipse
And hide the wound of our sharp sympathy,
Saying: “One’s neighbor differs; he might be
Kindled to wrath, were one to wield the whips
Of Truth.” Great God! A red Apocalypse
Flames on the blinded world: and what do we?
Peace! do we cry? Peace is the godlike plan
We love and dedicate our children to;
Yet England’s cause is ours: The rights of man,
Which little Belgium battles for anew,
Shall we recant? No!—Being American,
Our souls cannot keep neutral and keep true.
III
PEACE
Peace!—But there is no peace. To hug the thought
Is but to clasp a lover who thinks lies.
Go: look your earnest neighbor in the eyes
And read the answer there. Peace is not bought
By distance from the fight. Peace must be fought
And bled for: ’tis a dream whose horrid price
Is haggled for by dread realities;
Peace is not paid till dreamers are distraught.
Would we not close our ears against these ills,
Urging our hearts: “Be calm! America
Is called soon to rebuild a world.”—But ah!
How shall we nobly build with neutral wills?
Can we be calm while Belgian anguish thrills?
Or would we crown with peace—Caligula?