Page:A treasury of war poetry, British and American poems of the world war, 1914-1919.djvu/314

 AUXILIARIES

CHAPLAIN TO THE FORCES

MBASSADOR of Christ you go

Up to the very gates of Hell,

Through fog of powder, storm of shell,

To speak your Master's message: "Lo,

The Prince of Peace is with you still,

His peace be with you, His good-will."

It is not small, your priesthood's price,

To be a man and yet stand by,

To hold your life while others die.

To bless, not share the sacrifice,

To watch the strife and take no part—

You with the fire at your heart.

But yours, for our great Captain Christ,

To know the sweat of agony,

The darkness of Gethsemane,

In anguish for these souls unpriced.

Vicegerent of God's pity you,

A sword must pierce your own soul through.

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