HONOR

Honor to men

Who leave their homes

And children safe asleep,

To take the cover of night and fright

Women that wake and weep!

Honor, again,

To those who mount

For blood — hounds in a pack!

But let us honor the most of all —

Men that shoot in the back!

For, it is good

To fare a-field

And frighten helpless things,

And how good with a torch to scorch

A poor man's harvestings.

But, if you would

Do something high

And blameless, brave not black,

Ride till you find a peaceful man —

Then shoot — shoot in the back!

Why, there was one

In Palestine

Who gave a certain kiss.

More, fine friends, do you give who live

In a land not far from this!

For what he had done

He hanged himself —

Shame made a sick heart crack.

But you will muster and ride again —

And shoot — shoot in the back!

Oh, and you may!

But wait, the Day

Will come — shall it not come?

The Sovereign Law that you flaunt and daunt,

Will she lie always dumb?

Her prisons gray

They are slow, but wide;

When they open, you will lack

Many a thing — but most the fair,

Brave chance to shoot in the back!

O that a man

Should write such words

Of any soul alive!

That any shameless ear should hear —

And still in stealth connive

To burn and to ban,

From home and help,

The weak who fear the rack!

That he could wait till Justice turns,

Then shoot — shoot in the back!