America To England

1899 -Who would trust England, let him lift his eyes

To Nelson, columned o'er Trafalgar Square,

Her hieroglyph of duty, written where

The roar of traffic hushes to the skies;

Or mark, while Paul's vast shadow softly lies

On Gordon's statued sleep, how praise and prayer

Flush through the frank young faces clustering there

To con that kindred rune of sacrifice.

O England, no bland cloud-ship in the blue,

But rough oak plunging on o'er perilous jars

Of reef and ice, our faith will follow you

The more for tempest roar that strains your spars

And splits your canvas, be your helm but true,

Your courses shapen by the eternal stars.

1900 - The nightmare melts at last, and London wakes

To her old habit of victorious ease.

More men, and more, and more for over-seas,

More guns until the giant hammer breaks

That patriot folk whom even God forsakes.

Shall not Great England work her will on these,

The foolish little nations, and appease

An angry shame that in her memory aches?

But far beyond the fierce-contested flood,

The cannon-planted pass, the shell-torn town,

The last wild carnival of fire and blood,

Beware, beware that dim and awful Shade,

Armored with Milton's sword and Cromwell's frown,

Affronted Freedom, of her own betrayed!