APPENDIX A LI 



wrote passages of lofty feeling. He exclaims while detained by ill 

 health from enlisting: 



O God, the blood of Outram in these veins 



Cries shame upon the doom that dams it there 



In useless impotence, while the red torrent runs 



In glorious spate for Liberty and Right. 



O to have died that day at Langemarck! 



In one fierce moment to have paid it all ! 



The debt of Life to Earth and Hell and Heaven. 



To have perished nobly in a noble cause, 



Untarnished, unpolluted, undismayed, 



By the dark world's corruption; to have passed, 



A flaming beacon light to gods and men. 



For in the years to come it shall be told 



How these laid down their lives not for their homes, 



Their orchards, fields, and cities; they were driven 



To slaughter by no tyrant's lust for power; 



Of their free manhood's choice they crossed the sea, 



To save a stricken people from its foe 



They died for justice. Justice owes them this; 



That what they died for, be not overthrown." 



And again : 



"O happy dead, who sleep embalmed in glory, 



Safe from corruption, purified by fire! 



We shall grow old and tainted with the rotten 



Effluvia of the peace we fought to win; 



But you have conquered Time, and sleep forever. 



Like gods with a white halo on your brows; 



Your souls our lodestars, your death-crowned endeavour 



The spur that holds the nations to their vows." 



These words, written in France in April, 1917, were the last he 

 wrote before he himself "conquered Time, and slept forever." 



The verses from Lt. Peregrine Acland's Poem "The Reveille of 

 Romance" which I am about to quote show the spirit of high resolve 

 and the imaginative outlook which actuated those who sprang to 

 arms at the first call. This spirit upheld many throughout the stress 

 of the campaigns. The author, who wrote the lines at sea on his way 

 to the front, proved himself a fine soldier, received the Military 

 Cross, was promoted to the rank of Major and was severely wounded. 



Regret no more the age of arms. 



Nor sigh, "Romance is dead." 



Out of life's dull and dreary maze 



Romance has raised her head. 



* * * . 



From East and West and South and North 



The hosts are crowding still; 

 The long rails hum as troop-trains come 



By valley, plain and hill; 



