Page:Poems (1915) G K Chesterton.djvu/36

 And on glory of past and present

The light of his eyes looked down;

One hand went out to the morning

Over Brahmin and Buddhist slain,

And one to the West in scorning

To point at the scars of Spain;

One foot on the hills for warden

By the little Mountain trod;

And one was in a garden

And stood on the grave of God.

But men shall remember the Mountain,

Though it fall down like a tree,

They shall see the sign of the Mountain

Faith cast into the sea;

Though the crooked swords overcome it

And the Crooked Moon ride free,

When the Mountain comes to Mahomet

It has more life than he.

But what will there be to remember

Or what will there be to see—

Though our towns through a long November

Abide to the end and be?

Strength of slave and mechanic

Whose iron is ruled, by gold,

Peace of immortal panic,

Love that is hate grown cold—

Are these a bribe or a warning

That we turn not to the sun,