Page:Poems (1915) G K Chesterton.djvu/35



HAT will there be to remember

Of us in the days to be?

Whose faith was a trodden ember

And even our doubt not free;

Parliaments built of paper,

And the soft swords of gold

That twist like a waxen taper

In the weak aggressor's hold;

A hush around Hunger, slaying

A city of serfs unfed;

What shall we leave for a saying

Tc praise us when we are dead?

But men shall remember the Mountain

That broke its forest chains,

And men shall remember the Mountain

When it arches against the plains:

And christen their children from it

And season and ship and street,

When the Mountain came to Mahomet

And looked small before his feet.

His head was as high as the crescent

Of the moon that seemed his crown,