The Cross Still Stands!

()"In the evening I went for a walk to a village lately shelled by German heavy guns. Their effect was awful--ghastly. It was impossible to imagine the amount of damage done until one really saw it. The church was terrible too. The spire was sticking upside down in the ground a short distance from the door. The church itself was a mass of debris. Scarcely anything was left unhit. In the churchyard again the destruction was terrific--tombstones thrown all over the place. But the most noticeable thing of all was that the three Crucifixes--one inside and two outside--were untouched! How they can have avoided the shelling is quite beyond me. It was a wonderful sight though an awful one. There were holes in the churchyard about fifteen feet across."--From a letter from my boy at the Front.)

The churchyard stones all blasted into shreds,
The dead re-slain within their lowly beds,--
THE CROSS STILL STANDS!

His holy ground all cratered and crevassed,
All flailed to fragments by the fiery blast,--
THE CROSS STILL STANDS!

His church a blackened ruin, scarce one stone
Left on another,--yet, untouched alone,--
THE CROSS STILL STANDS!

His shrines o'erthrown, His altars desecrate,
His priests the victims of a pagan hate,--
THE CROSS STILL STANDS!

'Mid all the horrors of the reddened ways,
The thund'rous nights, the dark and dreadful days,--
THE CROSS STILL STANDS!

* * * * *

And, 'mid the chaos of the Deadlier Strife,--
A Church at odds with its own self and life,--
HIS CROSS STILL STANDS!

Faith folds her wings, and Hope at times grows dim;
The world goes wandering away from Him;--
HIS CROSS STILL STANDS!

Love, with the lifted hands and thorn-crowned head,
Still conquers Death, though life itself be fled;--
HIS CROSS STILL STANDS!

Yes,--Love triumphant stands, and stands for more,
In our great need, than e'er it stood before!
HIS CROSS STILL STANDS!

William Arthur Dunkerley (John Oxenham)

William Arthur Dunkerley, better known by his pen name John Oxenham, was an English journalist, novelist, and poet. He was a prolific writer in the early 20th century, producing a wide range of literary works including poetry, hymns, and novels. His works often reflected Christian themes and were popular during his time. Dunkerley also contributed to the establishment of the Boys' Brigade, a notable youth organization in the UK. His legacy includes a significant contribution to both literature and social causes.

William Arthur Dunkerley (John Oxenham)

Free Men Of God

William Arthur Dunkerley (John Oxenham), Simple Poetry

The Empty Chair

William Arthur Dunkerley (John Oxenham), Simple Poetry

In Church. 1916

William Arthur Dunkerley (John Oxenham), Simple Poetry

The Alabaster Box

William Arthur Dunkerley (John Oxenham), Simple Poetry

English

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Easter Sunday, 1916

The sun shone white and fair,
This Eastertide,
Yet all its sweetness seemed but to deride
Our souls' despair;
For stricken hearts, and loss and pain,
Were everywhere.
We sang our Alleluias,--
We said, "The Christ is risen!
                From this His earthly prison,
                The Christ indeed is risen.
                He is gone up on high,
                To the perfect peace of heaven."

Then, with a sigh,
We wondered...
Our minds evolved grim hordes of huns,
Our bruised hearts sank beneath the guns,
On our very souls they thundered.
Can you wonder?--Can you wonder,
That we wondered,
As we heard the huns' guns thunder?
That we looked in one another's eyes
And wondered,--

"Is Christ indeed then risen from the ...

William Arthur Dunkerley (John Oxenham)

The Cross

The cross, if rightly borne, shall be
No burden, but support to thee;"
So, moved of old time for our sake,
The holy monk of Kempen spake.

Thou brave and true one! upon whom
Was laid the cross of martyrdom,
How didst thou, in thy generous youth,
Bear witness to this blessed truth!

Thy cross of suffering and of shame
A staff within thy hands became,
In paths where faith alone could see
The Master's steps supporting thee.

Thine was the seed-time; God alone
Beholds the end of what is sown;
Beyond our vision, weak and dim,
The harvest-time is hid with Him.

Yet, unforgotten where it lies,
That seed of generous sacrifice,
Though seeming on the desert cast,
Shall rise with bloom and fruit at last

John Greenleaf Whittier

Watchman! What Of The Night?

Watchman!    What of the night?
No light we see,--
Our souls are bruised and sickened with the sight
Of this foul crime against humanity.
The Ways are dark----
            "I SEE THE MORNING LIGHT!"

--The Ways are dark;
Faith folds her wings; and Hope, in piteous plight,
Has dimmed her radiant lamp to feeblest spark.
Love bleeding lies----
            "I SEE THE MORNING LIGHT!"

--Love bleeding lies,
Struck down by this grim fury of despight,
Which once again her Master crucifies.
He dies again----
            "I SEE THE MORNING LIGHT!"

--He dies again,
By evil slain!    Who died for man's respite
By man's insensate rage again is slain.
O woful sight!----
            "I SEE THE MORNING LIGHT!

--Beyond the war-clo...

William Arthur Dunkerley (John Oxenham)

Policeman X

"Shall it be Peace?
A voice within me cried and would not cease,--
'One man could do it if he would but dare.'"
(From "Policeman X" in "Bees in Amber.")


He did not dare!
His swelling pride laid wait
On opportunity, then dropped the mask
And tempted Fate, cast loaded dice,--and lost;
Nor recked the cost of losing.

"Their souls are mine.
Their lives were in thy hand;--
Of thee I do require them!"

The Voice, so stern and sad, thrilled my heart's core
And shook me where I stood.
Sharper than sharpest sword, it fell on him
Who stood defiant, muffle-cloaked and helmed,
With eyes that burned, impatient to be gone.

"The fetor of thy grim burnt offerings
Comes up to me in clouds of bitterness.
Thy fell undoings crucify afres...

William Arthur Dunkerley (John Oxenham)

Victory

(Written after the British Service at Trinity Church, New York)


I.

Before those golden altar-lights we stood,
    Each one of us remembering his own dead.
A more than earthly beauty seemed to brood
    On that hushed throng, and bless each bending head.

Beautiful on that gold, the deep-sea blue
    Of those young seamen, ranked on either side,
Blent with the khaki, while the silence grew
    Deep, as for wings--Oh, deep as England's pride.

Beautiful on that gold, two banners rose--
    Two flags that told how Freedom's realm was made,
One fair with stars of hope, and one that shows
    The glorious cross of England's long crusade;

Two flags, now joined, till that high will be done
Which sent them forth to make the whole world one...

Alfred Noyes

To You Who Have Lost

I know!    I know!--
The ceaseless ache, the emptiness, the woe,--
The pang of loss,--
The strength that sinks beneath so sore a cross.
"--Heedless and careless, still the world wags on,
And leaves me broken ...    Oh, my son!    my son!"

Yet--think of this!--
Yea, rather think on this!--
He died as few men get the chance to die,--
Fighting to save a world's morality.
He died the noblest death a man may die,
Fighting for God, and Right, and Liberty;--
And such a death is Immortality.

"He died unnoticed in the muddy trench."
Nay,--God was with him, and he did not blench;
Filled him with holy fires that nought could quench,
And when He saw his work below was done,
He gently called to him,--"My son!    My son!
I need thee for a...

William Arthur Dunkerley (John Oxenham)