Page:Poems, Alan Seeger, 1916.djvu/216

 They sprang to their guns, each man was game;

And mark if they fight not to the last

For their hearths, their altars, and their past:

Yea, fight till their veins have been bled dry

For love of the country that will not die.

O friends, in your fortunate present ease

(Yet faced by the self-same facts as these),

If you would see how a race can soar

That has no love, but no fear, of war,

How each can turn from his private rôle

That all may act as a perfect whole,

How men can live up to the place they claim

And a nation, jealous of its good name,

Be true to its proud inheritance,

Oh, look over here and learn from FRANCE! 166