American Poetry Poetry of World War I The Choice: The American Spirit Speaks: To the Judge of Right and Wrong With Whom fulfillment lies Our purpose and our power belong, Our faith and sacrifice. Let Freedom's land rejoice! Our ancient bonds are riven; Once more to use the eternal choice Of good or ill is given. Not at a little cost, Hardly by prayer or tears, Shall we recover the road we lost In the drugged and doubting years. But after the fires and the wrath, But after searching and pain, His Mercy opens us a path To live with ourselves again. In the Gates of Death rejoice! We see and hold the good - - Bear witness, Earth, we have made our choice For Freedom's brotherhood. Then praise the Lord Most High Whose Strength hath saved us whole, Who bade us choose that the Flesh should die And not the living Soul! Rudyard Kipling
English & American Poetry England and America Mother and child! Though the dividing sea Shall roll its tide between us, we are one, Knit by immortal memories, and none But feels the throb of ancient fealty. A century has passed since at thy knee We learnt the speech of freemen, caught the fire That would not brook thy menaces, when sire And grandsire hurled injustice back to thee. But the full years have wrought equality: The past outworn, shall not the future bring A deeper union, from whose life shall spring Mankind's best hope? In the dark night of strife Men perished for their dream of Liberty Whose lives were given for this larger life. Florence T. Holt
English Poetry "For All We Have and Are" For all we have and are, For all our children's fate, Stand up and meet the war. The Hun is at the gate! Our world has passed away In wantonness o'erthrown. There is nothing left to- day But steel and fire and stone. Though all we knew depart, The old commandments stand: "In courage keep your heart, In strength lift up your hand." Once more we hear the word That sickened earth of old: "No law except the sword Unsheathed and uncontrolled," Once more it knits mankind, Once more the nations go To meet and break and bind A crazed and driven foe. Comfort, content, delight - - The ages' slow- bought gain - - They shrivelled in a night, Only ourselves remain To face the naked days In silent fortitude, Through perils and dismays Renewd and re- renewed. Though all we made depart, The old commandments stand: "In patience keep your heart, In strength lift up your hand." No easy hopes or lies Shall bring us to our goal, But iron sacrifice Of body, will, and soul. There is but one task for all - - For each one life to give. Who stands if freedom fall? Who dies if England live? Rudyard Kipling
French Poetry The Name of France Give us a name to fill the mind With the shining thoughts that lead mankind, The glory of learning, the joy of art, - - A name that tells of a splendid part In the long, long toil and the strenuous fight Of the human race to win its way From the feudal darkness into the day Of Freedom, Brotherhood, Equal Right, - - A name like a star, a name of light. I give you France! Give us a name to move the heart With a warmer glow and a swifter flood, - - A name like the sound of a trumpet, clear, And silver- sweet, and iron- strong, That calls three million men to their feet, Ready to march, and steady to meet The foes who threaten that name with wrong, - - A name that rings like a battle- song. I give you France! Give us a name to move the heart With the strength that noble griefs impart, A name that speaks of the blood outpoured To save minkind from the sway of the sword, - - A name that calls on the world to share In the burden of sacrificial strife Where the cause at stake is the world's free life Andthe rule of the people everywhere, - - A name like a vow, a name like a prayer. I give you France! Henry van Dyke
War Poetry Men of Verdun There are five men in the moonlight That by their shadows stand; Three hobble humped on crutches, And two lack each a hand. Frogs somewhere near the roadside Chorus their chant absorbed: But a hush breathes out of the dream- light That far in heaven is orbed. It is gentle as sleep falling And wide as thought can span, The ancient peace and wonder That brims in the heart of man. Beyond the hills it shines now On no peace but the dead, On reek of trenches thunder- shocked, Tense fury of wills in wrestle locked, A chaos of crumbled red! The five men in the moonlight Chat, joke, or gaze apart. They talk of days and comrades, But each one hides his heart. They wear clean cap and tunic, As when they went to war; A gleam comes where the medal's pinned: But they will fight no more. The shadows, maimed and antic, Gesture and shape distort, Like mockery of a demon dumb Out of the hell- din whence they come That dogs them for his sport: But as if dead men were risen And stood before me there With a terrible fame about them blown In beams of spectral air, I see them, men transfigured
As in a dream, dilate Fabulous with the Titan- throb Of battling Europe's fate; For history's hushed before them, And legend flames afresh, - - Verdun, the name of thunder, Is written on their flesh. Laurence Binyon