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Read Ebook: Carry On! by Sheard Virna
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Ebook has 86 lines and 6206 words, and 2 pages
Carry On The Young Knights The Shells The Watcher October Goes Dreams Before the Dawn Crosses The Cry A War Chant When Jonquils Blow To One Who Sleeps The Sea Comrades Requiem Lament
CARRY ON!
That all freedom may abide Carry on! For the brave who fought and died, Carry on! England's flag so long adored Is the banner of the Lord-- His the cannon--His the sword-- Carry on, and on! Carry on!
Through the night of death and tears, Carry on! Through the hour that scars and sears, Carry on! Legions in the flame-torn sky,-- Armies that go reeling by,-- Only once can each man die; Carry on!
For the things you count the best, Carry on! Take love with you,--leave the rest-- Carry on! Though the fight be short or long, Men of ours--O dear and strong-- Yours will be the Victor's song, Carry on--and on! Carry on!
THE YOUNG KNIGHTS
Now they remain to us forever young Who with such splendor gave their youth away; Perpetual Spring is their inheritance, Though they have lived in Flanders and in France A round of years, in one remembered day.
They drained life's goblet as a joyous draught And left within the cup no bitter lees. Sweetly they answered to the King's behest, And gallantly fared forth upon a quest, Beset by foes on land and on the seas.
So in the ancient world hath bloomed again The rose of old romance--red as of yore; The flower of high emprise hath whitely blown Above the graves of those we call our own, And we will know its fragrance evermore.
Now if their deeds were written with the stars, In golden letters on the midnight sky They would not care. They were so young, and dear, They loved the best the things that were most near, And gave no thought to glory far and high.
They need no shafts of marble pure and cold-- No painted windows radiantly bright; Across our hearts their names are carven deep-- In waking dreams, and in the dreams of sleep, They bring us still ineffable delight.
Methinks heaven's gates swing open very wide To welcome in a host so fair and strong; Perchance the unharmed angels as they sing, May envy these the battle-scars they bring, And sigh e'er they take up the triumph song!
THE SHELLS
O my brave heart! O my strong heart! My sweet heart and gay, The soul of me went with you the hour you marched away, For surely she is soulless, this woman white, and still, Who works with shining metal to make the things that kill.
I tremble as I touch them,--so strange they are, and bright; Each one will be a comet to break the purple night. Grey Fear will ride before it, and Death will ride behind, The sound of it will deafen,--the light of it will blind!
And whom it meets in passing, but God alone will know; Each one will blaze a trail in blood--will hew a road of woe; O when the fear is on me, my heart grows faint and cold:-- I dare not think of what I do,--of what my fingers hold.
Then sounds a Voice, "Arise, and make the weapons of the Lord!" "He rides upon the whirlwind! He hath need of shell and sword! His army is a mighty host--the lovely and the strong,-- They follow Him to battle, with trumpet and with Song!"
O my brave heart! My strong heart! My sweet heart and dear,-- 'Tis not for me to falter,--'Tis not for me to fear-- Across the utmost barrier--wherever you may be,-- With joy unspent, and deathless, my soul will follow thee.
THE WATCHER
Little White Moon--Each night from Heaven you lean To watch the lonely Seas, and all the Earth between;-- O little shining Moon! What have you seen?--
What have you seen upon the fields of France, Where through the drowsy grain, the gay red poppies dance, Unheeding splintered gun or broken lance?
Deep in the green-wood, shadow-laced, and still, What is it you have found, by fern-bed and by rill? What by each hollow--and each little hill?--
When o'er the sky the driven smoke-clouds flee, And through a dusky veil look down fearfully-- What do you find adrift upon the sea?
In the great mountains where the four winds blow,-- Where the King's cavalry, and his foot-soldiers go-- What have you seen beneath the shifting snow?
Little white Moon! So old,--so strangely bright-- How could you still shine on, unless you knew some night Here in the world you watch, all would be right!
OCTOBER GOES
October goes, and its colors all pass: At dawn there's a silver film on the grass, And the reeds are shining as pipes of glass,
But yesterweek where the cloud waves rolled Down a wind-swept sky that was grey, and cold, Sailed the hunter's moon,--a galleon of gold!
And now in the very depth of the night It is just a little flame, blown and white, Or a broken-winged moth on a weary flight.
But the steadfast trees at the forest rim, And the pines in places scented and dim, Still wait for one hunter, and watch for him.
And the wind in the branches whispers, "Why?" And the yellow leaves that go rustling by, Say only, "Remember," and sigh,--and sigh.
DREAMS
Keep thou thy dreams--though joy should pass thee by; Hold to the rainbow beauty of thy thought; It is for dreams that men will oft-times die,-- And count the passing pain of death as nought.
Keep though thy dreams, though faith should faint and fail, And time should loose thy fingers from the creeds, The vision of the Christ will still avail To lead thee on to truth and tender deeds.
Keep thou thy dreams all the winter's cold, When weeds are withered, and the garden grey, Dream thou of roses with their hearts of gold,-- Beckon to summers that are on their way.
Keep thou thy dreams--the tissue of all wings Is woven first of them; from dreams are made The precious and imperishable things, Whose loveliness lives on, and does not fade.
Keep thou thy dreams, intangible and dear As the blue ether of the utmost sky,-- A dream may lift thy spirit past all fear, And with the great, may set thy feet on high!
BEFORE THE DAWN
In that one darkest hour, before the dawn is here, Each soul of us goes sailing, close to the coast of Fear.
There in the windless quiet, from out the folded black, The things we have forgotten--or would forget--come back.
Old sorrows, long abandoned, or kept with lock and key, Steal from their prison places to bear us company.
All softly come our little sins--our scarlet sins--and gray, To keep with us a vigil till breaking of the day.
And there are velvet footsteps; or oft we seem to hear Light garments brush against the dark; so near--so very near!
Then heavily, as weighed by tears, each haunted moment goes, For dawn steps down the morning sky, in robes of gray and rose.
O fairies of the forest-ring, and little men in green, And pixies of the moonlight, and elves no eye hath seen, Brew us a magic potion, of deep and fairy power, A draught of Lethe--for one night--to tide us past that hour.
CROSSES
THE CRY
They have laid him away; Even he who was always so strong and gay Will be locked in the earth till the judgment day; "Dust unto dust" I have heard the priest say.
He will never return; Though I weep my eyes blind, though I pray and yearn,-- Though the star-light goes out and the great suns burn Into whitest ash,--he will never return.
So of weeping--no more; It is tears fill the oceans from shore to shore; They have made the wind salt--the wind at my door; They harm the good ground--so of weeping--no more.
"Not again!" "Not again!" Do you hear the sea singing that one refrain? The pine trees, the wind and the wearysome rain All whisper it; "Never again!"--"Not again!"
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