The Iron Flail

Time beats out all things with his iron flail,
Things great, things small.
With steady strokes that never fail,
With slow, sure strokes of his iron flail,
Time beats out all.

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)

No Man Goeth Alone

William Arthur Dunkerley (John Oxenham), Simple Poetry

A Telephone Message

William Arthur Dunkerley (John Oxenham), Simple Poetry

Quo Vadis?

William Arthur Dunkerley (John Oxenham), Simple Poetry

New Year's Day--And Every Day

William Arthur Dunkerley (John Oxenham), Simple Poetry

English

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Livingstone

To lift the sombre fringes of the Night,
To open lands long darkened to the Light,
To heal grim wounds, to give the blind new sight,
Right mightily wrought he.
        Forth to the fight he fared,
        High things and great he dared,
        He thought of all men but himself,
        Himself he never spared.
        He greatly loved--
        He greatly lived--
        And died right mightily.

Like Him he served, he walked life's troublous ways,
With heart undaunted, and with calm, high face,
And gemmed each day with deeds of sweetest grace;
Pull lovingly wrought he.
        Forth to the fight he fared,
        High things and great he dared,
        In His Master's might, to spread the Light,
        Right lovingly wrought he.
        ...

William Arthur Dunkerley (John Oxenham)

Alpha--Omega

Curly head, and laughing eyes,--
Mischief that all blame defies.

Cricket,--footer,--Eton-jacket,--
Everlasting din and racket.

Tennis,--boating,--socks and ties,--
Tragedies,--and comedies.

Business,--sobered,--getting on,--
One girl now,--The Only One.

London Scottish,--sporran,--kilt,--
Bonnet cocked at proper tilt.

Dies Irae!--Off to France,--
Lord,--a safe deliverance!

Deadly work,--foul gases,--trenches;
Naught that radiant spirit quenches.

Letters dated "Somewhere--France,"--
Mud,--and grub,--and no romance.

Hearts at home all on the quiver,
Telegrams make backbones shiver.

Silence!--Feverish enquiry;--
Dies Irae!--Dies Irae!

His the joy,--and ours the pain,
But, ere lon...

William Arthur Dunkerley (John Oxenham)

The High Things

The Greatest Day that ever dawned,--
It was a Winter's Morn.

The Finest Temple ever built
Was a Shed where a Babe was born.

The Sweetest Robes by woman wrought
Were the Swaths by the Baby worn.

And the Fairest Hair the world has seen,
--Those Locks that were never shorn.

The Noblest Crown man ever wore,--
It was the Plaited Thorn.

The Grandest Death man ever died,--
It was the Death of Scorn.

The Sorest Grief by woman known
Was the Mother-Maid's forlorn.

The Deepest Sorrows e'er endured
Were by The Outcast borne.

The Truest Heart the world e'er broke
Was the Heart by man's sins torn.

William Arthur Dunkerley (John Oxenham)

Time's Defeat

Time has made conquest of so many things
That once were mine.    Swift-footed, eager youth
That ran to meet the years; bold brigand health,
That broke all laws of reason unafraid,
And laughed at talk of punishment.

Close ties of blood and friendship, joy of life,
Which reads its music in the major key
And will not listen to a minor strain -
These things and many more are spoils of time.

Yet as a conqueror who only storms
The outposts of a town, and finds the fort
Too strong to be assailed, so time retreats
And knows his impotence.    He cannot take

My three great jewels from the crown of life:
Love, sympathy, and faith; and year on year
He sees them grow in lustre and in worth,
And glowers by me, plucking at his beard,
And dragging, as h...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Cold Iron

Gold is for the mistress, silver for the maid,
Copper for the craftsman cunning at his trade."
"Good!" said the Baron, sitting in his hall,
"But Iron, Cold Iron, is master of them all."

So he made rebellion 'gainst the King his liege,
Camped before his citadel and summoned it to siege.
"Nay!" said the cannoneer on the castle wall,
"But Iron, Cold Iron, shall be master of you all!"

Woe for the Baron and his knights so strong,
When the cruel cannon-balls laid 'em all along;
He was taken prisoner, he was cast in thrall,
And Iron, Cold Iron, was master of it all!

Yet his King spake kindly (ah, how kind a Lord!)
"What if I release thee now and give thee back thy sword?"
"Nay!" said the Baron, "mock not at my fall,
For Iron, Cold Iron, is master of men ...

Rudyard

Vox Clamantis

(THE PLEA OF THE MUNITION-WORKER)

"Rattle and clatter and clank and whirr,"--
And it's long and long the day is.
From earliest morn to late at night,
And all night long, the selfsame song,---
"Rattle and clank and whirr."
Day in, day out, all day, all night,--
"Rattle and clank and whirr;"
With faces tight, with all our might,--
"Rattle and clank and whirr;"
We may not stop and we dare not err;
Our men are risking their lives out there,
And we at home must do our share;--
But it's long and long the day is.
We'll break if we must, but we cannot spare
A thought for ourselves, or the kids, or care,
For it's "Rattle and clatter and clank and whirr;"
Our men are giving their lives out there
And we'll give ours, we will do our share,--
"Rattle a...

William Arthur Dunkerley (John Oxenham)