Chapter 3
(Being the words of the tune hummed at her lathe by Mrs. L. Embsay, widow.)
The fans and the beltings they roar round me. The power is shaking the floor round me Till the lathes pick up their duty and the midnight-shift takes over. It is good for me to be here!
_Guns in Flanders--Flanders guns! (I had a man that worked 'em once!) Shells for guns in Flanders, Flanders! Shells for guns in Flanders, Flanders! Shells for guns in Flanders! Feed the guns!_
The cranes and the carriers they boom over me, The bays and the galleries they loom over me, With their quarter-mile of pillars growing little in the distance: It is good for me to be here!
The Zeppelins and Gothas they raid over us. Our lights give warning, and fade over us. (Seven thousand women keeping quiet in the darkness!) Oh, it is good for me to be here!
The roofs and the buildings they grow round me, Eating up the fields I used to know round me; And the shed that I began in is a sub-inspector's office-- So long have I been here!
I've seen six hundred mornings make our lamps grow dim, Through the bit that isn't painted round our skylight rim, And the sunshine in the window slope according to the seasons, Twice since I've been here.
The trains on the sidings they call to us With the hundred thousand blanks that they haul to us; And we send 'em what we've finished, and they take it where it's wanted, For that is why we are here!
Man's hate passes as his love will pass. God made woman what she always was. Them that bear the burden they will never grant forgiveness So long as they are here!
Once I was a woman, but that's by with me. All I loved and looked for, it must die with me. But the Lord has left me over for a servant of the Judgment, And I serve His Judgments here!
_Guns in Flanders--Flanders guns! (I had a son that worked 'em once!) Shells for guns in Flanders, Flanders! Shells for guns in Flanders, Flanders! Shells for guns in Flanders! Feed the guns!_
GETHSEMANE
The Garden called Gethsemane In Picardy it was, And there the people came to see The English soldiers pass. We used to pass--we used to pass Or halt, as it might be, And ship our masks in case of gas Beyond Gethsemane.
The Garden called Gethsemane, It held a pretty lass, But all the time she talked to me I prayed my cup might pass. The officer sat on the chair, The men lay on the grass, And all the time we halted there I prayed my cup might pass--
It didn't pass--it didn't pass-- It didn't pass from me. I drank it when we met the gas Beyond Gethsemane.
THE PRO-CONSULS
_The overfaithful sword returns the user His heart's desire at price of his heart's blood. The clamour of the arrogant accuser Wastes that one hour we needed to make good. This was foretold of old at our outgoing; This we accepted who have squandered, knowing, The strength and glory of our reputations, At the day's need, as it were dross, to guard The tender and new-dedicate foundations Against the sea we fear--not man's award._
They that dig foundations deep, Fit for realms to rise upon, Little honour do they reap Of their generation, Any more than mountains gain Stature till we reach the plain.
With no veil before their face Such as shroud or sceptre lend-- Daily in the market-place, Of one height to foe and friend-- They must cheapen self to find Ends uncheapened for mankind.
Through the night when hirelings rest, Sleepless they arise, alone, The unsleeping arch to test And the o'er-trusted corner-stone, 'Gainst the need, they know, that lies Hid behind the centuries.
Not by lust of praise or show, Not by Peace herself betrayed-- Peace herself must they forego Till that peace be fitly made; And in single strength uphold Wearier hands and hearts acold.
On the stage their act hath framed For thy sports, O Liberty! Doubted are they, and defamed By the tongues their act set free, While they quicken, tend and raise Power that must their power displace.
Lesser men feign greater goals, Failing whereof they may sit Scholarly to judge the souls That go down into the pit, And, despite its certain clay, Heave a new world towards the day.
These at labour make no sign, More than planets, tides or years Which discover God's design, Not our hopes and not our fears; Nor in aught they gain or lose Seek a triumph or excuse.
_For, so the Ark be borne to Zion, who Heeds how they perished or were paid that bore it? For, so the Shrine abide, what shame--what pride-- If we, the priests, were bound or crowned before it?_
THE CRAFTSMAN
Once, after long-drawn revel at The Mermaid, He to the overbearing Boanerges Jonson, uttered (If half of it were liquor, Blessed be the vintage!)
Saying how, at an alehouse under Cotswold, He had made sure of his very Cleopatra, Drunk with enormous, salvation-contemning Love for a tinker.
How, while he hid from Sir Thomas's keepers, Crouched in a ditch and drenched by the midnight Dews, he had listened to gipsy Juliet Rail at the dawning.
How at Bankside, a boy drowning kittens Winced at the business; whereupon his sister (Lady Macbeth aged seven) thrust 'em under, Sombrely scornful.
How on a Sabbath, hushed and compassionate-- She being known since her birth to the townsfolk-- Stratford dredged and delivered from Avon Dripping Ophelia.
So, with a thin third finger marrying Drop to wine-drop domed on the table, Shakespeare opened his heart till sunrise Entered to hear him.
London wakened and he, imperturbable, Passed from waking to hurry after shadows ... Busied upon shows of no earthly importance? Yes, but he knew it!
THINGS AND THE MAN
(IN MEMORIAM, JOSEPH CHAMBERLAIN)
1904
'And Joseph dreamed a dream, and he told it his brethren; and they hated him yet the more.'--_Genesis_ XXXVII. 5.
Oh ye who hold the written clue To all save all unwritten things, And, half a league behind, pursue The accomplished Fact with flouts and flings, Look! To your knee your baby brings The oldest tale since Earth began-- The answer to your worryings _'Once on a time there was a Man.'_
He, single-handed, met and slew Magicians, Armies, Ogres, Kings. He lonely 'mid his doubting crew-- 'In all the loneliness of wings'-- He fed the flame, he filled the springs, He locked the ranks, he launched the van Straight at the grinning Teeth of Things. _'Once on a time there was a Man.'_
The peace of shocked Foundations flew Before his ribald questionings. He broke the Oracles in two, And bared the paltry wires and strings. He headed desert wanderings, He led his soul, his cause, his clan A little from the ruck of Things. _'Once on a time there was a Man.'_
Thrones, Powers, Dominions block the view With episodes and underlings-- The meek historian deems them true Nor heeds the song that Clio sings-- The simple central truth that stings The mob to boo, the priest to ban; _Things never yet created things-- 'Once on a time there was a Man.'_
A bolt is fallen from the blue. A wakened realm full circle swings Where Dothan's dreamer dreams anew Of vast and farborne harvestings; And unto him an Empire clings That grips the purpose of his plan. My Lords, how think you of these things? _Once--in our time--is there a Man?_
THE BENEFACTORS
_Ah! What avails the classic bent And what the cultured word, Against the undoctored incident That actually occurred?_
_And what is Art whereto we press Through paint and prose and rhyme-- When Nature in her nakedness Defeats us every time?_
It is not learning, grace nor gear, Nor easy meat and drink, But bitter pinch of pain and fear That makes creation think.
When in this world's unpleasing youth Our god-like race began, The longest arm, the sharpest tooth, Gave man control of man;
Till, bruised and bitten to the bone And taught by pain and fear, He learned to deal the far-off stone, And poke the long, safe spear.
So tooth and nail were obsolete As means against a foe, Till, bored by uniform defeat, Some genius built the bow.
Then stone and javelin proved as vain As old-time tooth and nail, Ere, spurred anew by fear and pain, Man fashioned coats of mail.
Then was there safety for the rich And danger for the poor, Till someone mixed a powder which Redressed the scale once more.
Helmet and armour disappeared With sword and bow and pike, And, when the smoke of battle cleared, All men were armed alike....
And when ten million such were slain To please one crazy king, Man, schooled in bulk by fear and pain, Grew weary of the thing;
And, at the very hour designed, To enslave him past recall, His tooth-stone-arrow-gun-shy mind Turned and abolished all.
* * * * *
_All Power, each Tyrant, every Mob Whose head has grown too large, Ends by destroying its own job And earns its own discharge._
_And Man, whose mere necessities Move all things from his path, Trembles meanwhile at their decrees, And deprecates their wrath!_
THE DEAD KING
(EDWARD VII.)
1910
_Who in the Realm to-day lays down dear life for the sake of a land more dear? And, unconcerned for his own estate, toils till the last grudged sands have run? Let him approach. It is proven here Our King asks nothing of any man more than Our King himself has done._
For to him above all was Life good, above all he commanded Her abundance full-handed. The peculiar treasure of Kings was his for the taking: All that men come to in dreams he inherited waking:--
His marvel of world-gathered armies--one heart and all races, His seas 'neath his keels when his war-castles foamed to their places; The thundering foreshores that answered his heralded landing; The huge lighted cities adoring, the assemblies upstanding; The Councils of Kings called in haste to learn how he was minded-- The Kingdoms, the Powers, and the Glories he dealt with unblinded.
To him came all captains of men, all achievers of glory, Hot from the press of their battles they told him their story. They revealed him their life in an hour and, saluting, departed, Joyful to labour afresh--he had made them new-hearted. And, since he weighed men from his youth, and no lie long deceived him, He spoke and exacted the truth, and the basest believed him.
And God poured him an exquisite wine, that was daily renewed to him, In the clear-welling love of his peoples that daily accrued to him. Honour and service we gave him, rejoicingly fearless; Faith absolute, trust beyond speech and a friendship as peerless. And since he was Master and Servant in all that we asked him, We leaned hard on his wisdom in all things, knowing not how we tasked him.
For on Him each new day laid command, every tyrannous hour, To confront, or confirm, or make smooth some dread issue of power; To deliver true judgment aright at the instant, unaided, In the strict, level, ultimate phrase that allowed or dissuaded; To foresee, to allay, to avert from us perils unnumbered, To stand guard on our gates when he guessed that the watchmen had slumbered; To win time, to turn hate, to woo folly to service and, mightily schooling His strength to the use of his Nations, to rule as not ruling. These were the works of our King; Earth's peace was the proof of them. God gave him great works to fulfil, and to us the behoof of them. We accepted his toil as our right--none spared, none excused him. When he was bowed by his burden his rest was refused him. We troubled his age with our weakness--the blacker our shame to us! Hearing his People had need of him, straightway he came to us.
As he received so he gave--nothing grudged, naught denying, Not even the last gasp of his breath when he strove for us, dying For our sakes, without question, he put from him all that he cherished. Simply as any that serve him he served and he perished. All that Kings covet was his, and he flung it aside for us. Simply as any that die in his service he died for us.
_Who in the Realm to-day has choice of the easy road or the hard to tread? And, much concerned for his own estate, would sell his soul to remain in the sun? Let him depart nor look on Our dead. Our King asks nothing of any man more than Our King himself has done._
A DEATH-BED
'This is the State above the Law. The State exists for the State alone.' [_This is a gland at the back of the jaw,_ _And an answering lump by the collar-bone._]
Some die shouting in gas or fire; Some die silent, by shell and shot. Some die desperate, caught on the wire; Some die suddenly. This will not.
'Regis suprema Voluntas lex.' [_It will follow the regular course of--throats._] Some die pinned by the broken decks, Some die sobbing between the boats.
Some die eloquent, pressed to death By the sliding trench, as their friends can hear. Some die wholly in half a breath Some--give trouble for half a year.
'There is neither Evil nor Good in life Except as the needs of the State ordain.' [_Since it is rather too late for the knife, All we can do is to mask the pain._]
Some die saintly in faith and hope-- One died thus in a prison-yard-- Some die broken by rape or the rope; Some die easily. This dies hard.
'I will dash to pieces who bar my way. Woe to the traitor! Woe to the weak!' [_Let him write what he wishes to say. It tires him out if he tries to speak._]
Some die quietly. Some abound In loud self-pity. Others spread Bad morale through the cots around ... This is a type that is better dead.
'The war was forced on me by my foes. All that I sought was the right to live.' [_Don't be afraid of a triple dose; The pain will neutralize half we give._
_Here are the needles. See that he dies While the effects of the drug endure.... What is the question he asks with his eyes?-- Yes, All-Highest, to God, be sure._]
GEHAZI
'Whence comest thou, Gehazi, So reverend to behold, In scarlet and in ermines And chain of England's gold?' 'From following after Naaman To tell him all is well, Whereby my zeal hath made me A Judge in Israel.'
Well done, well done, Gehazi, Stretch forth thy ready hand, Thou barely 'scaped from judgment, Take oath to judge the land, Unswayed by gift of money Or privy bribe, more base, Of knowledge which is profit In any market-place.
Search out and probe, Gehazi, As thou of all canst try, The truthful, well-weighed answer That tells the blacker lie-- The loud, uneasy virtue, The anger feigned at will, To overbear a witness And make the Court keep still.
Take order now, Gehazi, That no man talk aside In secret with his judges The while his case is tried. Lest he should show them--reason To keep a matter hid, And subtly lead the questions Away from what he did.
Thou mirror of uprightness, What ails thee at thy vows? What means the risen whiteness Of the skin between thy brows? The boils that shine and burrow, The sores that slough and bleed-- The leprosy of Naaman On thee and all thy seed? Stand up, stand up, Gehazi, Draw close thy robe and go, Gehazi, Judge in Israel, A leper white as snow!
THE VIRGINITY
Try as he will, no man breaks wholly loose From his first love, no matter who she be. Oh, was there ever sailor free to choose, That didn't settle somewhere near the sea?
Myself, it don't excite me nor amuse To watch a pack o' shipping on the sea, But I can understand my neighbour's views From certain things which have occurred to me.
Men must keep touch with things they used to use To earn their living, even when they are free; And so come back upon the least excuse-- Same as the sailor settled near the sea.
He knows he's never going on no cruise-- He knows he's done and finished with the sea, And yet he likes to feel she's there to use-- If he should ask her--as she used to be.
Even though she cost him all he had to lose, Even though she made him sick to hear or see, Still, what she left of him will mostly choose Her skirts to sit by. How comes such to be?
_Parsons in pulpits, tax-payers in pews, Kings on your thrones, you know as well as me, We've only one virginity to lose, And where we lost it there our hearts will be!_
A PILGRIM'S WAY
I do not look for holy saints to guide me on my way, Or male and female devilkins to lead my feet astray. If these are added, I rejoice--if not, I shall not mind, So long as I have leave and choice to meet my fellow-kind. For as we come and as we go (and deadly-soon go we!) The people, Lord, Thy people, are good enough for me!
Thus I will honour pious men whose virtue shines so bright (Though none are more amazed than I when I by chance do right), And I will pity foolish men for woe their sins have bred (Though ninety-nine per cent. of mine I brought on my own head) And, Amorite or Eremite, or General Averagee, The people, Lord, Thy people, are good enough for me!
And when they bore me overmuch, I will not shake mine ears, Recalling many thousand such whom I have bored to tears. And when they labour to impress, I will not doubt nor scoff; Since I myself have done no less and--sometimes pulled it off. Yea, as we are and we are not, and we pretend to be, The people, Lord, Thy people, are good enough for me!
And when they work me random wrong, as often-times hath been, I will not cherish hate too long (my hands are none too clean) And when they do me random good I will not feign surprise, No more than those whom I have cheered with wayside charities. But, as we give and as we take--whate'er our takings be-- The people, Lord, Thy people, are good enough for me!
But when I meet with frantic folk who sinfully declare There is no pardon for their sin, the same I will not spare Till I have proved that Heaven and Hell which in our hearts we have Show nothing irredeemable on either side the grave. For as we live and as we die--if utter Death there be-- The people, Lord, Thy people, are good enough for me!
Deliver me from every pride--the Middle, High, and Low-- That bars me from a brother's side, whatever pride he show. And purge me from all heresies of thought and speech and pen That bid me judge him otherwise than I am judged. _Amen!_ That I may sing of Crowd or King or road-borne company, That I may labour in my day, vocation and degree, To prove the same in deed and name, and hold unshakenly (Where'er I go, whate'er I know, whoe'er my neighbour be) This single faith in Life and Death and all Eternity 'The people, Lord, Thy people, are good enough for me!'
THE OLDEST SONG
For before Eve was Lilith--_Old Tale._
These were never your true love's eyes. Why do you feign that you love them? You that broke from their constancies, And the wide calm brows above them!
This was never your true love's speech. Why do you thrill when you hear it? You that have ridden out of its reach The width of the world or near it!
This was never your true love's hair,-- You that chafed when it bound you Screened from knowledge or shame or care, In the night that it made around you!
'_All these things I know, I know._ _And that's why my heart is breaking!_' Then what do you gain by pretending so? '_The joy of an old wound waking._'
NATURAL THEOLOGY
PRIMITIVE
I ate my fill of a whale that died, And stranded after a month at sea.... There is a pain in my inside. Why have the Gods afflicted me? Ow! I am purged till I am a wraith! Wow! I am sick till I cannot see! What is the sense of Religion and Faith? Look how the Gods have afflicted me!
PAGAN
How can the skin of rat or mouse hold Anything more than a harmless flea?... The burning plague has taken my household. Why have my Gods afflicted me?
All my kith and kin are deceased, Though they were as good as good could be. I will out and batter the family priest, Because my Gods have afflicted me.
MEDIÆVAL
My privy and well drain into each other After the custom of Christendie.... Fevers and fluxes are wasting my mother. Why has the Lord afflicted me? The Saints are helpless for all I offer-- So are the clergy I used to fee Henceforward I keep my cash in my coffer, Because the Lord has afflicted me.
MATERIAL
I run eight hundred hens to the acre. They die by dozens mysteriously.... I am more than doubtful concerning my Maker. Why has the Lord afflicted me? What a return for all my endeavour-- Not to mention the L. S. D.! I am an atheist now and for ever, Because this God has afflicted me!
PROGRESSIVE
Money spent on an Army or Fleet Is homicidal lunacy.... My son has been killed in the Mons retreat. Why is the Lord afflicting me? Why are murder, pillage and arson And rape allowed by the Deity? I will write to the _Times_, deriding our parson Because my God has afflicted me.
CHORUS
We had a kettle, we let it leak; Our not repairing it made it worse. We haven't had any tea for a week.... The bottom is out of the Universe!
CONCLUSION
This was none of the good Lord's pleasure, For the Spirit He breathed in Man is free; But what comes after is measure for measure And not a God that afflicteth thee. As was the sowing so the reaping Is now and evermore shall be. Thou art delivered to thy own keeping. Only Thyself hath afflicted thee!
A SONG AT COCK-CROW
'_Ille autem iterum negavit._'
The first time that Peter deniéd his Lord He shrank from the cudgel, the scourge and the cord, But followed far off to see what they would do, Till the cock crew--till the cock crew-- After Gethsemane, till the cock crew!
The first time that Peter deniéd his Lord 'Twas only a maid in the palace who heard, As he sat by the fire and warmed himself through. Then the cock crew! Then the cock crew! ('Thou also art one of them.') Then the cock crew!