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BLACK AND TAN REPRAISALS, by             Poem Explanation         Poet's Biography
First Line: The honour of england now hides in the grave
Alternate Author Name(s): Moore, T. Sturge


Black and Tans break in, burn, shoot and kill
⁠While lawyers wrangle and priests rule ill,
And over the sea, beyond the wave,
⁠The fateful letters sealed go grave
Terror and anguish are love's spilth,
⁠And where love was, black pools of filth.


What avails it to make parade
⁠Of the vast rewards of your mighty trade,
Or the learning and beauty of your halls,
⁠To the sobs of women and children, the calls
Of the dispossessed and the violated,
⁠And the hoot of laughter with which it is rated?


Frost may defend or snow may screen,
⁠But the pain that is, is not a dream;
Frost may gleam on spire and buttress,
⁠But hate and fear blacken and hurt us.
Be the first, sweet Love, to confess
⁠Your love unfeigned in a world at peace.


With hoarse cry from the isle of swans
⁠Is it thus you come, terrible Ones,
Norse, Celt, and Saxon, with spear and sword,
⁠To battle for God and to save the Lord?
He whose hands hold fire and steel,
⁠Shall he in heaven forever dwell?


What of the limbs he wreathed in pain,
⁠Of the mothers he caused to mourn in vain,
Of the little ones he gave to the sword?
⁠Shall they be counted in his reward?
If you had come in the days when chivalry shone,
⁠And pure faith lit up the Christian throne,
When the arm of man was strong and bold,
⁠And the heart of man was pure and gold,
Then might the land be won by sword,
⁠And all be saved by the grace of the Lord.
But now the heart of man is weak,
⁠And the arm of man is small and meek,
And peace, not war, should be our goal,
⁠To heal the wounds that blacken the soul.
Then let us kneel in prayer and love,
⁠And lift our hearts to the God above.








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