COMFORT YE! (continued)
And now you shall have gladness
For the years you have seen ill;
Give up to Me your sadness,
And I your cup will fill.
"My lord, there came unto the gate One, in such pitiful estate,
So all forlorn and desolate,
Ill-fed, ill-clad, of ills compact;
A leper too, his poor flesh wracked
And dead, his very bones infect;
Of all God's sons none so abject.
I could not, on the Lord's own day,
Turn such a stricken one away.
In pity him I took, and fed,
And happed him in our royal bed."
"A leper!-in our bed!-Nay then,
My Queen, thy charities do pass
The bounds of sense at times! A bane
On such unwholesome tenderness!
Dost nothing owe to him who shares
Thy couch, and suffers by thy cares?
He could have slept upon the floor,
And left you still his creditor.
A leper!-in my bed!-God's truth!
Out upon such outrageous ruth!"
S. ELIZABETH'S LEPER (continued)
He strode in anger towards the bed,
And lo!-
The Christ, with thorn-crowned head,
Lay there in sweet sleep pillowèd.
(THE PLEA OF THE MUNITION-WORKER),
"Rattle and clatter and clank and whirr,”.
And it's long and long the day is.
From earliest morn to late at night,
And all night long, the selfsame song,-
"Rattle and clank and whirr."
Day in, day out, all day, all night,—
"Rattle and clank and whirr,"
With faces tight, with all our might,-
"Rattle and clank and whirr,"
We may not stop and we dare not err;
Our men are risking their lives out there,
And we at home must do our share;-
But it's long and long the day is.
We'll break if we must, but we cannot spare
A thought for ourselves, or the kids, or care,
For it's "Rattle and clatter and clank and whirr,"
Our men are giving their lives out there
And we'll give ours, we will do our share,-
"Rattle and clank and whirr.”
VOX CLAMANTIS (continued)
Are our faces grave, and our eyes intent?
Is every ounce that is in us bent
On the uttermost pitch of accomplishment?
Though it's long and long the day is!
Ah-we know what it means if we fool or slack;
-A rifle jammed,-and one comes not back;
And we never forget,—it's for us they gave;
And so we will slave, and slave, and slave,
Lest the men at the front should rue it.
Their all they gave, and their lives we'll save,
If the hardest of work can do it;-
But it's long and long the day is.
Eight hours', ten hours', twelve hours' shift ;-
Oh, it's long and long the day is!
Up before light, and home in the night,
That is our share in the desperate fight;-
And it's long and long the day is!
Backs and arms and heads that ache,
Eyes over-tired and legs that shake,
And hearts full nigh to burst and break;—
Oh, it's long and long the day is!
Week in, week out, not a second to spare,
But though it should kill us we'll do our share,
|