LAND AND WATER. 
March 2, 1916. 
A CALL TO ARMS. 
[This is Ihc sona oj a sailoniuin, ■written on hoard a buttle ship in the North Sea. The poet, ivho prefers anonv- 
mity, gives utterance here to the very spirit of the British Fleet, well knowing that in any hour he and his 
comrades may bs " called out to ihc fray once more " to bear -their part in " the desperate dcathward dance."] 
"M /TEN of Great Britain, Sons of a stalwart race : 
% /■ Sparks of tho fierce eternal Fire 
I ^U I Tlwt springs from your breeding place : 
-L ▼ -M.. Knights of a World-flung Chivalry : 
Males of majestic ire : 
Heralds of Freedom's \'ictory, 
Can it be that ye faint or tire ? 
That your arras grow weak and j-our ardour cold, 
That ye talk of Honour but seek for gold, 
TJiat your he:uls are cast in a craven mould 
And shrink from the iron task. 
Mem'ries of mighty men of old, 
Deeds of the men they led, 
Flung on the screen of Tim3 unfold 
The valour that Britain bred ; 
Wellington, Nelson, Cochrane, Drake, 
Nicholson, Anso.i, Moore, 
Cromwell, Gordon, Grenville, Blake, 
ilen great and grim and dour ; 
Tlic blood they shed and the deeds they ilia. 
Form they a mighty pyramid 
'Neath which the crumbling bones lie liid - 
Bones of a Race that is. 
As babes ye sat at your mother's feet. 
And listened with bated breath 
To the tales of the heroes to whom defeat 
Had only one synonym— Death. 
Fear ye to weave for your babes afresh 
The tales that ye once lield dear ; 
Of bullet-scored, shell-shattered, war-scarred flesn. 
And its Spirit that knew no fear ? 
Years on in the cool of the evening's calm. 
In country homestead and peaceful farm. 
Shall your children hear of your strong right arm 
Or cowardly selfishness ? 
Backward for many a hundred years 
Stretches your Roll of Fame, 
\\ctted with many a myriad tears 
But never a tear of shame ; 
Fonvard into the Mists of Time 
Flashes the search-light beam, 
Lighting the heights that you must climb 
By the light of the dreams you dream : — 
Dreams of a mighty work begun. 
Dreams of a duty yet undone, 
Dreams of a fearless Freedom won 
For Nations as yet unborn. 
Come ! Rally your wrathful, resistless ranks, 
Out to the fray once more ; 
Render yoiu- gentle and knightly thanks 
To these Teutons who ask for war ; 
Gird up your loins and get you forth, 
" Ouit you like men, be strong," 
Teach them the strength and the weighty worth 
Of the swords that your fathers swung. 
Doffing your caps with a courtly grace. 
Blast with your cannons and bid them trace 
The course of the currents which interlace 
Round the lockers of Da\y Jones. 
Tender to women, but stern to men, 
Knightly in word and deed, 
Fierce be your Goillikc angtr wlicn 
Felons transgress your Creed : 
Short be the shrift of the Loveless hound 
W'lio rapes, pleading riglit of war — 
Captain and private alike are bound 
By Chivalrie's changeless Law. 
In the Courts of Heaven a mau is great 
Not by his rank in a Tinu-bound State 
But by tlie measure he doth create 
Of Love pure and undefiled. 
Swift, stern and clean be your sword and heart, 
Fearless your foe-ward glance, 
Staunchly and steadily bear your part 
In the desperate, death-ward dance. 
Wide are the doors of A'alhalla's Halls 
Ye Bearers of Britain's Might, 
Jovous the voice of old Odin calls 
" 5lore Britons to dine to-night.'' 
Onward ye Sons of the Deathless Dead, 
Onward ye Warriors grim and dread. 
With lofty mien and measured tread, 
Jiiward to Victory, 
ENVOI. 
Where the winds of the earth are scattered 
.^ud torn by the shrieking shell. 
And the blood-sodden earth and shattered 
Reeks foul witii the stench of Hell, 
Fare ye woU m^rrs' mm, bear ye well m.rry lujii, 
What of blood, what of grim:;, wliat of tears ? 
In trench or in town, where's thj iieart that is down ? 
What's this fretwork of folly called f^^ars ? 
Fare ye well m3rry m^n, bear ye we'll msrry mm, 
Wliat of Love msrry men, wha:t of hate ? 
When all's said and done, why hurl hate at a Hun, 
When by Loving ye prove yourselves great ? 
Bear ye well m^rry msn, fare ye well m^rry men, 
What of Life merry men, what of Death ? 
Lose Freedom, lose Love, and the Heavens above 
Shall mock at your panting for breath. 
[Here the poem properly ends, but the poet has been moved 
to add these two stanzas, entitling one " A Hops " and 
the other " A Prayer."] 
A HOPE. 
Great God Most Mighty of Love and Peace, 
Is Thy Message for ever \aiu ? 
Strikes never tlie hour of Thv sons' release 
From the self-riven bonds of" Cain ? 
Must brother for ever with brother fight ? 
Is Love lost for evermore ? 
Or is it that Wrong siiall give birth to Right, 
And that Peace shall be born of War > 
As boys shake hands wlicn their hght is done. 
And vonquislied hand clasps the hanrl that has won, 
Great God, shall it be that this war begun 
In hatred shall cease in Love ? 
A PRAYER, 
We crave no remittance for sins that are oast, 
Let us pay our just debts and be free. 
No shelter we seek from the shell's sudden blast 
Such thmgs as must be, let them be. 
We kneel at Thy feet with no boast on our lips 
'I hat our cause is more just than our foe's. 
With no priest-ridden follies for blasphemous " tips " 
Du we dare to insult Him who Knows. 
13ut this. Mighty God of our Fathers, we plead, 
Iho' Thou smitcst Thy sons, keep us true to our Creed, 
I hat our King and our ICmpire may never have need 
1 o blusii for one act or feel shame for one deed 
I hat is wrouglit by the hand of a Briton. 
Finis, 
