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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
PALESTINE, by KATHARINE TYNAN Poem Explanation Poet's Biography First Line: How strange if it should fall to you Alternate Author Name(s): Hinkson, Katharine Tynan Subject(s): World War I | |||
How strange if it should fall to you, How strange if it should fall to you, To me, our boys should do the deed To me, our boys should do the deed The great Crusaders failed to do! The great Crusaders failed to do! To win Christ's Sepulchre: to bleed, To win Christ's Sepulchre: to bleed, So the immortal dream come true. So the immortal dream come true. What ghosts now throng the Holy Ground, What ghosts now throng the Holy Ground, With rusted armour, dinted sword, With rusted armour, dinted sword, Listening? The earth shakes with the sound; Listening? The earth shakes with the sound; The wind brings hither a fierce word: The wind brings hither a fierce word: To arms, to arms, Sons of Mahound! To arms, to arms, Sons of Mahound! In many a quiet cloister grey In many a quiet cloister grey Cross-legged Crusaders, men of stone, Cross-legged Crusaders, men of stone, Quiver and stir the Eastward way, Quiver and stir the Eastward way, As they would spring up and be gone As they would spring up and be gone To the Great Day, to the Great Day. To the Great Day, to the Great Day. Godfrey and Lion-Heart and all Godfrey and Lion-Heart and all The splendours of the faithful years The splendours of the faithful years Watch our young sons from the Knights' stall, Watch our young sons from the Knights' stall, Ready to clap hands to their spears Ready to clap hands to their spears If ill befall, if ill befall. If ill befall, if ill befall. They say: It is the Child's Crusade They say: It is the Child's Crusade Was talked of in our early Spring. Was talked of in our early Spring. St. George, St. Denis, to their aid! St. George, St. Denis, to their aid! That was a boy's voice challenging, That was a boy's voice challenging, Shrill like a bugle, unafraid! Shrill like a bugle, unafraid! Most wonderful, if your son, my son, Most wonderful, if your son, my son, Should win the Holy Thing at last! Should win the Holy Thing at last! The might of Heathenesse be undone, The might of Heathenesse be undone, The strong towers down, the gate unfast, The strong towers down, the gate unfast, Lord Christ come to His own, His own. Lord Christ come to His own, His own. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...D'ANNUNZIO by ERNEST HEMINGWAY 1915: THE TRENCHES by CONRAD AIKEN TO OUR PRESIDENT by KATHARINE LEE BATES THE HORSES by KATHARINE LEE BATES CHILDREN OF THE WAR by KATHARINE LEE BATES THE U-BOAT CREWS by KATHARINE LEE BATES THE RED CROSS NURSE by KATHARINE LEE BATES WAR PROFITS by KATHARINE LEE BATES |
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