Excerpt
THE RED FLOWER
June 1914
In the pleasant time of Pentecost, By the little river Kyll,I followed the angler's winding path Or waded the stream at will.And the friendly fertile German land Lay round me green and still.
But all day long on the eastern bank Of the river cool and clear,Where the curving track of the double rails Was hardly seen though near,The endless trains of German troops Went rolling down to Trier.
They packed the windows with bullet heads And caps of hodden gray;They laughed and sang and shouted loud When the trains were brought to a stay;They waved their hands and sang again As they went on their iron way.
No shadow fell on the smiling land, No cloud arose in the sky;I could hear the river's quiet tune When the trains had rattled by;But my heart sank low with a heavy sense Of trouble,—I knew not why.
Then came I into a certain field Where the devil's paint-brush spread'Mid the gray and green of the rolling hills A flaring splotch of red,An evil omen, a bloody sign, And a token of many dead.
I saw in a vision the field-gray horde Break forth at the devil's hour,And trample the earth into crimson mud In the rage of the Will to Power,—All this I dreamed in the valley of Kyll, At the sign of the blood-red flower.
A SCRAP OF PAPER"Will you go to war just for a scrap of paper?"—Question of theGerman Chancellor to the British Ambassador, August 3, 1914.
A mocking question! Britain's answer cameSwift as the light and searching as the flame.
"Yes, for a scrap of paper we will fightTill our last breath, and God defend the right!
"A scrap of paper where a name is setIs strong as duty's pledge and honor's debt.
"A scrap of paper holds for man and wifeThe sacrament of love, the bound of life.
"A scrap of paper may be Holy WritWith God's eternal word to hallow it.
"A scrap of paper binds us both to standDefenders of a neutral neighbor land.
"By God, by faith, by honor, yes! We fightTo keep our name upon that paper white."
September, 1914
STAND FASTStand fast, Great Britain!Together England, Scotland, Ireland standOne in the faith that makes a mighty land,True to the bond you gave and will not breakAnd fearless in the fight for conscience' sake!Against Giant Robber clad in steel,With blood of trampled Belgium on his heel,Striding through France to strike you down at last, Britain, stand fast!
Stand fast, brave land!The Huns are thundering toward the citadel;They prate of Culture but their path is Hell;Their light is darkness, and the bloody swordThey wield and worship is their only Lord.O land where reason stands secure on right,O land where freedom is the source of light,Against the mailed Barbarians' deadly blast, Britain, stand fast!
Stand fast, dear land!Thou island mother of a world-wide race,Whose children speak thy tongue and love thy face,Their hearts and hopes are with thee in the strife,Their hands will break the sword that seeks thy life;Fight on until the Teuton madness cease;Fight bravely on, until the word of peaceIs spoken in the English tongue at last, Britain, stand fast...!