Oh! it is not just the men who face the guns,
Not the fighters at the Front alone, to-day
Who will bring the longed-for close to the bloody fray, for those
Could not carry on that fray without the ones
Who are working at war's problems far away.

You are ALL our splendid heroes in the strife,
And we class you with the warriors maimed and scarred,
Though you never have been near enough the battle din to hear,
While you laboured in the dull routine of life
In your khaki suits with sleeves that are not barred.

You have offered up yourselves to save the world;
You have felt the abnegation of the Christ:
And whatever work you do is a noble work and true;
Though it be not done with banners all unfurled,
You will find it has, in sight of God, sufficed.

Wh...

This game of life is a dangerous play,
Each human soul must watch alway,
    From the first to the very last.
I care not however strong and pure -
Let no man say he is perfectly sure
    The dangerous reefs are past.

For many a rock may lurk near by,
That never is seen when the tide is high -
    Let no man dare to boast,
When the hand is full of trumps -beware,
For that is the time when thought and care
    And nerve are needed most.

As the oldest jockey knows to his cost,
Full many a well-run race is lost
    A brief half length from the wire.
And many a soul that has fought with sin,
And gained each battle, at last gives in
    To sudden, fierce desire.

And vain seems the effort of spur and whip,
Or the hoarse, hot cry of th...

Gather him to his grave again,
And solemnly and softly lay,
Beneath the verdure of the plain,
The warrior's scattered bones away.
Pay the deep reverence, taught of old,
The homage of man's heart to death;
Nor dare to trifle with the mould
Once hallowed by the Almighty's breath.

The soul hath quickened every part,
That remnant of a martial brow,
Those ribs that held the mighty heart,
That strong arm, strong no longer now.
Spare them, each mouldering relic spare,
Of God's own image; let them rest,
Till not a trace shall speak of where
The awful likeness was impressed.

For he was fresher from the hand
That formed of earth the human face,
And to the elements did stand
In nearer kindred, than our race.
In many a flood to madness toss...

[1]

'Go, paltry insect, nature's meanest brat!'
Thus said the royal lion to the gnat.
The gnat declared immediate war.
'Think you,' said he, 'your royal name
To me worth caring for?
Think you I tremble at your power or fame?
The ox is bigger far than you;
Yet him I drive, and all his crew.'
This said, as one that did no fear owe,
Himself he blew the battle charge,
Himself both trumpeter and hero.
At first he play'd about at large,
Then on the lion's neck, at leisure, settled,
And there the royal beast full sorely nettled.
With foaming mouth, and flashing eye,
He roars. All creatures hide or fly, -
Such mortal terror at
The work of one poor gnat!
With constant change of his attack,
The snout now stinging, now the back,
...

Read At The Meeting Held At Music Hall, February 8, 1876, In Memory Of Dr. Samuel G. Howe


I.

Leader of armies, Israel's God,
Thy soldier's fight is won!
Master, whose lowly path he trod,
Thy servant's work is done!

No voice is heard from Sinai's steep
Our wandering feet to guide;
From Horeb's rock no waters leap;
No Jordan's waves divide;

No prophet cleaves our western sky
On wheels of whirling fire;
No shepherds hear the song on high
Of heaven's angelic choir.

Yet here as to the patriarch's tent
God's angel comes a guest;
He comes on heaven's high errand sent,
In earth's poor raiment drest.

We see no halo round his brow
Till love its own recalls,
And, like a leaf that quits the bough,
The mort...

Upon the barren sand
A single captive stood;
Around him came, with bow and brand,
The red-men of the wood.
Like him of old, his doom he hears,
Rock-bound on ocean's rim:
The chieftain's daughter knelt in tears,
And breathed a prayer for him.

Above his head in air
The savage war-club swung:
The frantic girl, in wild despair,
Her arms about him flung.
Then shook the warriors of the shade,
Like leaves on aspen limb--
Subdued by that heroic maid
Who breathed a prayer for him.

"Unbind him!" gasped the chief--
"Obey your king's decree!"
He kissed away her tears of grief,
And set the captive free.
'Tis ever thus, when, in life's storm,
Hope's star to man grows dim,
An angel kneels in woman's form,
And breathes a prayer f...

(1879)

Sons of the Island race, wherever ye dwell,
    Who speak of your fathers' battles with lips that burn,
The deed of an alien legion hear me tell,
    And think not shame from the hearts ye tamed to learn,
    When succour shall fail and the tide for a season turn,
To fight with joyful courage, a passionate pride,
To die at last as the Guides of Cabul died.

For a handful of seventy men in a barrack of mud,
    Foodless, waterless, dwindling one by one,
Answered a thousand yelling for English blood
    With stormy volleys that swept them gunner from gun,
    And charge on charge in the glare of the Afghan sun,
Till the walls were shattered wherein they couched at bay,
And dead or dying half of the seventy lay.

Twice they had taken the cannon ...

Thrice hath the spring beheld thy faded fame
Since I exulting grasp'd the tuneful shell:
Eager through endless years to sound thy name,
Proud that my memory with thine should dwell.
How hast thou stain'd the splendor of my choice!
Those godlike forms which hover'd round thy voice,
Laws, freedom, glory, whither are they flown?
What can I now of thee to time report,
Save thy fond country made thy impious sport,
Her fortune and her hope the victims of thy own?
There are with eyes unmov'd and reckless heart
Who saw thee from thy summit fall thus low,
Who deem'd thy arm extended but to dart
The public vengeance on thy private foe.
But, spite of every gloss of envious minds,
The owl-ey'd race whom Virtue's lustre blinds,
Who sagely prove that each man hath his price...

To his heart it struck such terror
That he laughed a laugh of scorn, -
The man in the soldier's doublet,
With the sword so bravely worn.

It struck his heart like the frost-wind
To find his comrades fled,
While the battle-field was guarded
By the heroes who lay dead.

He drew his sword in the sunlight,
And called with a long halloo:
"Dead men, there is one living
Shall stay it out with you!"

He raised a ragged standard,
This lonely soul in war,
And called the foe to onset,
With shouts they heard afar.

They galloped swiftly toward him.
The banner floated wide;
It sank; he sank beside it
Upon his sword, and died.

Is the goal distant, and troubled the road,
    And the way long?
    And heavy your load?
Then gird up your courage, and say 'I am strong,'
    And keep going.

Is the work weary, and endless the grind
    And petty the pay?
    Then brace up your mind
And say 'Something better is coming my way,'
    And keep doing.

Is the drink bitter life pours in your cup -
    Is the taste gall?
    Then smile and look up
And say 'God is with me whatever befall,'
    And keep trusting.

Is the heart heavy with hope long deferred,
    And with prayers that seem vain?
    Keep saying the word -
And that which you strive for you yet shall attain.
    Keep praying.

Worthy art Thou, O Lord, of praise,
But ah! It's not in me.
My sinking heart I pray Thee raise
So shall I give it Thee.

My life as spider's webb's cut off,
Thus fainting have I said,
And living man no more shall see
But be in silence laid.

My feeble spirit Thou didst revive,
My doubting Thou didst chide,
And though as dead mad'st me alive,
I here a while might 'bide.

Why should I live but to Thy praise?
My life is hid with Thee.
O Lord, no longer be my days
Than I may fruitful be.

He wrought in poverty, the dull grey days,
But with the night his little lamp-lit room
Was bright with battle flame, or through a haze
Of smoke that stung his eyes he heard the boom
Of Bluecher's guns; he shared Almeida's scars,
And from the close-packed deck, about to die,
Looked up and saw the "Birkenhead"'s tall spars
Weave wavering lines across the Southern sky:

Or in the stifling 'tween decks, row on row,
At Aboukir, saw how the dead men lay;
Charged with the fiercest in Busaco's strife,
Brave dreams are his, the flick'ring lamp burns low,
Yet couraged for the battles of the day
He goes to stand full face to face with life.

    Farewell, O Arm of the Lord!
    Man who hated the sword,
    Yet struck and spared not the thing abhorred!
    Farewell, O word of the Word!
    Man who knew no failure
    But the failure of the Lord!

Before them lay the heaving deep
    Behind, the foemen pressed;
And every face grew dark with fear,
    And anguish filled each breast
Save one, the Leader's, he, serene,
    Beheld, with dauntless mind,
The restless floods before them seen.
    The foe that pressed behind.
"Why hast thou brought us forth for this?"
    The people loudly cry; -
"Were there no graves in Egypt's land,
    That here we come to die?"
But calm and clear above the din
    Arose the prophet's word, -
"Stand still! stand still! - and ye shall see
    The salvation of the Lord!"

"Fear not! - the foes whom now you see,
    Your eyes no more shall view! -
Peace to your fears! - your fathers' God
    This day shall fight for you;
For Egypt, in her haughty pride<...

The mighty conflict, which we call existence,
    Doth wear upon the body and the soul,
Our vital forces wasted in resistance,
    So much there is to conquer and control.

The rock which meets the billows with defiance,
    Undaunted and unshaken day by day,
In spite of its unyielding self-reliance,
    Is by the warfare surely worn away.

And there are depths and heights of strong emotions
    That surge at times within the human breast,
More fierce than all the tides of all the oceans
    Which sweep on ever in divine unrest.

I sometimes think the rock worn with adventures,
    And sad with thoughts of conflicts yet to be,
Must envy the frail reed which no one censures,
    When, overcome, 'tis swallowed by the sea.

This life is all re...

Think not that the heart is devoid of emotion,
    Because of a countenance rugged and stern,
The bosom may hide the most fervent devotion,
    As shadowy forests hide floweret and fern;
As the pearls which are down in the depths of the ocean,
    The heart may have treasures which few can discern.

Think not the heart barren, because no reflection
    Is flashed from the depths of its secret embrace;
External appearance may baffle detection,
    And yet the heart beat with an ethical grace:
The breast may be charged with the truest affection
    And never betray it by action or face.

[1]

The lion had an enterprise in hand;
Held a war-council, sent his provost-marshal,
And gave the animals a call impartial -
Each, in his way, to serve his high command.
The elephant should carry on his back
The tools of war, the mighty public pack,
And fight in elephantine way and form;
The bear should hold himself prepared to storm;
The fox all secret stratagems should fix;
The monkey should amuse the foe by tricks.
'Dismiss,' said one, 'the blockhead asses,
And hares, too cowardly and fleet.'
'No,' said the king; 'I use all classes;
Without their aid my force were incomplete.
The ass shall be our trumpeter, to scare
Our enemy. And then the nimble hare
Our royal bulletins shall homeward bear.'

A monarch provident and wise

Use all your hidden forces.    Do not miss
The purpose of this life, and do not wait
For circumstance to mould or change your fate;
In your own self lies Destiny.    Let this
Vast truth cast out all fear, all prejudice,
All hesitation.    Know that you are great,
Great with divinity.    So dominate
Environment, and enter into bliss.
Love largely and hate nothing.    Hold no aim
That does not chord with universal good.
Hear what the voices of the Silence say -
All joys are yours if you put forth your claim.
Once let the spiritual laws be understood,
Material things must answer and obey.