Page:Poems, Volume 1, Coates, 1916.djvu/153



HE peace we longed to keep

Our fate denied;

Reluctant we awoke, as from a sleep,

And saw the face of duty deified.

We followed with dismay

The awful hand

That drew us, step by step, along the way,

And pointed to an agonizing land.

Nearer it led and nearer

To dreadful death,

While ever to the spirit whispered clearer

A voice that promised something more than breath:

A voice that prophesied

Of victory,

Through mildness and compassion sanctified,—

Of conquest that ennobles and makes free.