IF courage thrives on reeking slaughter, And he who kills is lord Of beauty and of loving laughter— Gird on me a sword! If death be dearest comrade proven, If life be coward's mate, If Nazareth of dreams be woven— Give me fighter's fate! If God be thrilled by a battle cry, If He can bless the moaning fight, If when the trampling charge goes by God Himself is the leading Knight; If God laughs when the gun thunders, If He yells when the bullet sings— Then my stoic soul but wonders How great God can do such things! The white gulls wheeling over the plough, The sun, the reddening trees— We being enemies, I and thou, There is no meaning to these. There is no flight on the wings of Spring, No scent in the summer rose; The roundelays that the blackbirds sing— There is no meaning in those! If you must kill me—why the lark, The hawthorn bud, and the corn? Why do the stars bedew the dark? Why is the blossom born? If I must kill you—why the kiss Which made you? There @3is@1 no why! If it be true we were born for this— Pitiful Love, Goodbye! Not for the God of battles! For Honour, Freedom and Right, And saving of gentle Beauty, We have gone down to fight! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OLD FOLKS AT HOME by STEPHEN COLLINS FOSTER TO A LILY by JAMES MATHEWES LEGARE A NICE CORRESPONDENT by FREDERICK LOCKER-LAMPSON THE GRAVE OF LOVE by THOMAS LOVE PEACOCK THE HAUNTED PALACE by EDGAR ALLAN POE FOR THE YOUNGEST by CHARLES WESLEY ANNUNCIATIO B.V. by JOSEPH BEAUMONT |