"_Peace with its luxury is the corrupter of Nations._"
Peace! When have we prayed for peace? Over us burns a star Bright, beautiful, red for strife! Yours are only the drum and the fife And the golden braid and the surface of life! Ours is the white-hot war!
Peace? When have we prayed for peace? Ours are the weapons of men! Time changes the face of the world! Therefore your ancient flags are furled, And ours are the unseen legions hurled Up to the heights again!
Peace? When have we prayed for peace? Is there no wrong to right? Wrong crying to God on high Here where the weak and the helpless die, And the homeless hordes of the city go by, The ranks are rallied to-night!
Peace? When have we prayed for peace? Are ye so dazed with words? Earth, heaven, shall pass away Ere for your passionless peace we pray! Are ye deaf to the trumpets that call us to-day, Blind to the blazing swords?
"_Unless public opinion can rise to the height of discussing the substitution of law for force as a great world-movement, the American arbitration proposals cannot be carried out._"
Dare we--though our hope deferred Left us faithless long ago-- Dare we let our hearts be stirred, Lift them to the light and _know_, Cast away our cynic shields, Break the sword that Mockery wields, _Know_ that Truth indeed prevails, And that Justice holds the scales? Britain, kneel! Kneel, Imperial Commonweal!
Dare we know that this great hour, Dawning on thy long renown, Marks the purpose of thy power, Crowns thee with a mightier crown, Know that to this purpose climb All the blood-red wars of Time? If indeed thou _hast_ a goal Beaconing to thy warrior soul, Britain, kneel! Kneel, Imperial Commonweal!
Dare we know what every age Writes with an unerring hand, Read the midnight's moving page, Read the stars and understand,-- Out of Chaos ye shall draw Linked harmonies of Law, Till around the Eternal Sun All your peoples move in one? Britain, kneel! Kneel, Imperial Commonweal!
Dare we know that wearied eyes Dimmed with dust of every day _Can_, once more, desire the skies And the glorious upward way? Dare we, if the Truth should still Vex with doubt our alien will, Take it to our Maker's throne, Let Him speak with us alone? Britain, kneel! Kneel, Imperial Commonweal!