Page:Fifes and Drums, Poems of America at War, Vigilantes, 1917.djvu/28



! How we love her and the good she brings

On broad, benignant wings!

And we have clung to her—how close and long,

While she has made us strong!

Now we must guard her lest her power cease,

And in the harried world be no more peace.

Even with a sword,

Help us, O Lord!

For us no patient peace, the weary goal Of a war-sickened soul;

No peace that battens on misfortune's pain,

Swollen with selfish gain, Bending slack knees before a calf of gold,

With nerveless fingers impotent to hold

The freeman's sword—

Not this, O Lord!