HARKEN, heroic England! Know how near
To thy life-citadel the foe has drawn!
Abjure complacent counsels; learn to fear;
For Might that wars 'gainst all thou holdest dear,
Unstayed, is marching on!
Thou, patient ever, be deceived no more:
Part with delusive dreams that make less strong!
Behold how bold (a ruthless conqueror),
By night and day comes nearer to thy door
Call upon all thy strength—not later, now!—
Now while the world waits breathless for thy deed,
That it eternally may disavow
The faith that "Might makes Right," nor bow
To Savagery's brute creed!
Brave in defence of honor and the word
Which, given freely, binds and maketh free.
Arm, that the weak and helpless may be heard!—
Yea, that the hearts of men may still be stirred
To Christ's humanity!
From fields of horror, blood-soaked, eloquent,
From shrines of beauty, waste and desecrate,
From unoffending lips and innocent,
The cry of anguish and of hope is rent:—
"England! be not too late!"