Page:Poems of the Great War - Cunliffe.djvu/169

 From Prussian beer-halls, Rhiiiisli hills, from Auricli

east to Gumbinnen, From Rostock down to stolen Silz, sounded the tramp

of Krupp-made men.

This was }our guardian brother's gift, the choice

he gave his little ward : Betrayal of France (the course of thrift) or (Honor's

course) the crimsoned sword. And you, the Nations' David, chose, while all the

world stood trembling by ; You called your sons, and they arose : " Come forth

to die ! Come forth to die !"

Your weaver stopped his whirring loom ; as Ceesar

met him, even so now Your farmer hurried to his doom, and in its furrow

left the plough ; And Flanders, Hainault, Brabant came, Antwerp

and Limburg — all the land : The nameless and the proud of name, shoulder to

shoulder, hand in hand.

Not for adventure, nor in pride : with naught to

gain and all to lose — Their homes, their wives, their lives beside — true

sons of you, they, too, could choose.

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