MEN OF THE BLOOD AND MIRE
DANIEL M. HENDERSON
in Everybody’s Magazine
Permission to reproduce in this book
WE whom the draft rejected;
We who stay by the stuff;
We who measure our manhood
And find that it isn’t enough;
We who are gray and burdened;
We whom the trades require—
Will you permit us to hail you,
Men of the Blood and Mire?
We of the thundering forum;
We of the pen and press;
We who are pouring our utmost
Into our land’s success;
We of the Cross and Triangle,
Lofty in deed and desire—
God, how we shrivel before you,
Men of the Blood and Mire!
Aye, we are square with conscience—
We are reservists all;
Aye, when your ranks are gaping,
We will fight where you fall;
Yet, while we wait, your altar
Flames in the gas and fire—
We are the shade of your glory,
Men of the Blood and Mire!
THE SONG OF THE DEAD
J. H. M. ABBOTT
in The London Outlook