Ernest K. Challenger
For the voice of the mind is dumb,
But the voice of the soul is heard,
Where the wild dark waters are come
And the face of man's sky is blurred.
Who shall say "Lo here
Shall the glory of war be found,
That a nation arose without fear
And smote her foe to the ground
For the wrong that he dared to dream,
And the hell that he wrought on earth;
That she pressed after Honour's gleam
Though it led to a land of dearth"?
Who has measured wrong,
And who shall assign it a bond?
Where the scornful might of the strong
And the cry of the weak be found—
Say, is the tale complete?
Ah! myriad wrongs spring up
Where one has set its feet,
And the earth is a poisoned cup
Where the goodly wine brings death,
And one drop of venom there
Shall poison the very breath
Of the winds in the upper air.
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