The road to Arras [microform]

“a y
Che Road
fo
Arras

m

BY
EDGAR W. McINNIS

Che Road to Arras

BY
EDGAR W. McINNIS

er

Irwin Printing Co. Ltd.
Charlottetown

Pe
(>)
ae
—
a
>
S
os
ae
a

TO

The Author

THESE VERSES ARE
DEDICATED
BY

ae
=
A
aN
£
rs
s
®
]
%
|
=
To

cern nO TET ST EN c1Se NTS RAEN SON annie Trineennannsor: A

aR SECeNN TE TALL RME TOO |S PEP REET RITE.

. ee
* uaaill SOP CISPR OP EERE TRS ser HTN: e NR PRIS PETER THIRTIES an gain RAPER : can cies EES ee RENT

|
:

OW we cease from our hasting and strife,
and we turn once again
From the wind-scaliered wilderness trail
that has battered our feet
To the deep-sinking moss and the pines where the
slow shadows meet,
When the wine-laden dusk is aglow and all golden
with mist.
For the days of our peril are past, bul the visions
remain,
And the ghosts of dead memories haunt us with
whispers of fears—
Of the struggle and suffering and scars and the
Jong leaden years,
Of the love of strong men and the glory we else
would have missed—

O heights we have known, and once knowing may
never forget:

And the pitiless night, and the pitfalls that yawned
in our way,

Till we stood on the crest of the hill at the stirring
of day,

With a song on our lips, and the flush of the dawn
in our eyes.

In the valley the roses are sweet, and we lake no
regret

As we come down the broad level highway at peace
from our wars,

Bul by anguish and loil we have conquered the
road lo the stars,

And have carven our triumphs anew in the heart
of the skies.

The Road to Arras

papel the road tc Arras we were swinging
through the gloom

Ere the morning stars grew pale to greet the
light,

And the dawn-mist wrapped the valley in the
silence of the tomb,

And the road before our eyes lay long and white.

We were gray with dust and weary; we were
hungry, worn and parched,

And from our lagging steps the spring had gone,

But our hearts were strong und singing as along
the road we marched—

Along the road to Arras in the dawn.

Never breath of wind was stirring through the
towering poplar tops,

Never sound save our own footsteps crunching by

Till we reached the last grey hilltop where the
roadway turns and drops,

As the first dim ray of daylight flushed the sky;

Then a lark’s song broke the stillness with a
joyous melody,

Till its little throat seemed bursting with its lay,

And a breeze blew up the valley, laden sweet and
heavily

With the perfume of the flowers along the way.

8 “HE ROAD TO ARRAS

Sononeneonsonnnnetenssoreen sUnennenennesenesonen sarin snneereeononconeney veneveneeeseeenonscecssonsssessons rector Wotteeeneersssssorsoneseneenni ites

So we vame at last to Arras —ah, bat who can
ever tell

All the tiery hopes and aching fears we knew?

All the pain of those who faltered, all the grief
for those who fell,

And the raging, roaring hell we journeyed
through—

All the folly and the glory and the shameful
waste of war,

All the gain that may be loss before the end—

Dust and ashes in our memories that hold but
one thing more-—

Those tragic mounds—and ev ery mound a friend.

O the long white road to Arras where the poplars
sentinel!
And the plain below the road—the shell-swept
plain
Where we raised the rough white crosses to the
friends we loved so welj
Who will never, never tramp the road again!
We are far away from Arras, where the white
Cathedral gleams
O’er the valley when the morning mist has gone,
But when darkness pales to dawning we go
swinging in our dreams
Along the road to Arras—
To battered, shell-scarred Arras—
The road we tramped to Arras in the dawn.

|

THE ROAD TO ARRAS 9

‘Hbsetecesonenen snes pene cncnennnnceerseconsacancsvsconersccesaneuecnnieieNl bb nentensnennenneceeeoonrecssonsocecons sssusonnsaconnnnsesscoonanens

The Sentinel

(““F: itz has the contract for lighting the Western
Front’’—Soldier Saying.)

SQ ROM sullen dusk to pallid dawn,
With eyes that may not close,

I watch the crimson sky grow wan
And flush again to rose;

The blood-red of the sunset gate
Fades into ghastlier light—

The throbbing, pulsing fires of hate
That sear the robe of night.

ueidinithteianteesteen tal a
—

O’er shattered wall and sunken road
Their quivering flames are hurled—
The glory of the gods, bestowed
Upon our wildczed world,
The secrets of the void profound,
The mysteries of life,
Melted and fused, and showered around
In pools of anguished strife—

Ah, lights that reel *twixt earth and sky
In stabbing, searching pain!

Their scarlet spears shall leap and die
And flicker high again

Until the last dim fire has glowed—
For they can only be

The lights that mark the winding road
Whose end is victory.

os seeneeeee 17... 2

10 THE ROAD TO ARRAS

Onnenennesensnpennanenenenensonmes stenonnseeussesennitsansesOOUGeGeNeseNeEDOEEEDOUERELEDSOSEEDGESOGEEBUESUDUBEUSHAGUATUNUTNTORTINTOFOOENOOREEHODOEEOD

Over the Line

NLY a shadowy, slendez thread
Running to God Knows Where,

Caught on a cross-arm overhead,

Shining like silver there,
Stretching as far as the eye can see,

Tiny and taut and fine—
Oh, but the things that have come to me

Over the line—

Word of the foe in a wild retreat;
Victory won and lost:

Triumph, close-snatched from a black defeat—
Tales of the red, sad cost—

Stories of grim gaunt men at bay,
Speeding with wings divine,

Tell all the world bow they fought: that day—
Over the line.

Only a silvery strand, it sings
Ever its cheery song,

Thrilling and throbbing with wondrous things,
Passing the word along,

Speeding the message on swifter wing,
Bringing the longed-for sign—

Victory lives in the words that ring
Over the line.

STE ET ggg reer, Pe ree” i

4

THE ROAD TO ARRAS 11

ORONGNONNNnaNanennneRONRnGNNO NAA EROAOOONUEAOUOCONiELOn ODOR EORTOOELOOHRRRDAETEOOERUEUODLEHOREEOEEOTOETTENTTVODEN TENOR) RORGROORORROROR DEORE DOOROE IONS

My Princess

P| ER little wooden shoes go patter-patter-
pat

On the cobbles of the sunny old French street,

As she toddles down the hill with a rat-a-tat-a-
tat,

And there’s music in the clatter of her feet—

Oh, her hair is molten sunshine with the shadows
flitting through,

And her big round eyes are twinkling, shining
stars,

And her laughter is the sweetest that the old
world ever knew

Since the fairies fluttered through the rainbow
bars.

So I count myself her subject, and | stand to
serve her needs

And I come to lay my homage at her feet,

But she laughs and clatters by me, and she never
looks nor heeds—

And when she laughs she looks so wondrous
sweet!

And I’m sad when she is sorrowful, and glad
when she is gay,

And every day | love her more and more,

But she tramples on the heart of me, and laugh-
ing goes her way—

My little Princess—aged just four.

reid

SI a Ea lc cntentmnnsontn at aethdlnyiinnNiste asad iathsnsih i cbemacnadabegpinsl aut!

12 THE ROAD TO ARRAS

tL

Oh, her kingdon ties before her, for my heart is
all her own,

And the little tyrant rules by smile and frown,

With a rag doll for her sceptre, and a wooden
stool her throne, |

Cn,

And her royal robe a tattered gingham gown,

And she only asks a sugar-plum as tribute to her {
sway,

Or a kiss, perhaps, to drive away the blues,

But I know the great big universe keeps rolling
on its way

To the clatter of her little wooden shoes.

AT ALA]

OT in the rush of a broken cause —not in a
shameful war

Not in the sad, hot haste of fear shall we go

forth once more,

Not with despondent and senile steps will we
| turn from the beaten track—

We will arise in the pride of might, as we did in
the years long back.

| s
| The Adventurers |
|

Years long back, when our riotous blood nor
quiet, nor peace could brook,

We who were born to the Lonesome Trail the

paths of our sires forsook,

see

THE ROAD TO ARRAS 13

VOUEDONOUNNEOOOUOGDOUODNOUOTE GIL: sc SONEDOEOEDEAUTOORONTAROON SOEUR TADOOEEEAODOEEE ODODE DONO NOOSENEN OD ENDO NOOEN Ht tL ereEO Ot CnepnOReonOnonostCOnORtE

Spurning the ancient, trusted things for the
things of doubtful worth,

Playing the game of life and death at the ends of
the careless earth.

Oft have we drunken and diced with Death—
laughed in his face with the best—

Little we recked of his ghastly grin as we matched
him jest for jest—

Oft would we gladly have hailed him friend; oft
have we pledged his health—

Now we would meet him in open fray, lest he
come in the night by stealth.

Over the ribbed, ridged comb of the wor!d our
vagabond road runs red——

We who were born to the [.onesome Trail, we
may not die in bed—

Better to fall in the last grim fight on the crimson
corpse-ringed hill,

So that old England may know with pride that
her sons are English still!

PATATAS
Killed in Action

UDDEN the darkness closes on the plain,
And rolls across the hills;
The lark drops earthward, and his magic strain
No longer thrills—

14 THE ROAD TO ARRAS

MII hla

Cometh the night, and snatches from our hands
The love we sought to hold,

And leaves us vagrant in unfriendly lands,
Weary and old,

And one strong heart with valiant upward flight
The barriers withdrawn,

Goes forth adventuring into the night
To find the dawn.

TATAT A)

The Gun

A SHARP command from the misty dark,
And we brace ourselves for the big gun’s
bark,

For the echoing bang that. splits the night,

And the sudden flash of the blinding iight

That etches clear, for a moment’s space,

The tense, hard lines on each straining face:

Then the darkness folds like a robe again,

And the squeaking scotches groan and strain,

And we hark once more, as the orders come,

To the quivering ‘‘plunk” as the shell drives
home,

To the leathery squeal as the wheel-brakes jam,

To the thudding clang of the breech-block’s slam;

Then our palms fly up to our mud-stained cheeks,

And we close our ears as the big gun speaks.

Spock

THE ROAD TO ARRAS 15

MTT LL

Oh, the enemy search for her night and day,

And they batter an old estaminet

Or the church by the square where our cables run,
But they never come nigh to the crouching gun!
For she sits secure by the battered wall,

And she bides her time while the stray shells fall--
Yes, she waits and waits till the last one rips,
With a sneering laugh on her cruel lips,

Then she wakes to life with a shattering roar,
And we feed her the shells, and she calls for more,
And she hurls them North and East and South
Like bitter oaths from her blackened mouth—
Oh, well do the enemy know their path,

And they fear our gun when she roars her wrath!

So she works for us, and we work for her,
And together we swing from ridge to spur,
And our trail lies plain to the shuddering skies
In the sanguine stream of our sacrifice;

For we stride the length of the lonely land,

And we scetter death with an open hand

To the foe as they crouch in their d:; -outs deep--
Re they wide awake, be they fast asleep,

Still we search them out and we mark them well,
And we leave their fate to the screaming shell
That our big gun speeds on its hellish way .....
Till over the town the dawn breaks grey.

And the darkness drives from the far hill-crest;
Then we leave our gun for a well-earned rest.

16 THE ROAD TO ARRAS

Canadians in London

E knew her clothed in sombre black and grey,
The glittering tinsel doffed and flung aside,

And in her clear, calm eyes a steadfast pride
That silenced grief and brushed the tears away;
We deemed her cold, until we learned to prize
The yearning warmth beneath her chill disdain--
Her heart’s high courage in the hour of pain,
And the rich wonder of her sacrifice—

So when the closing necnace grips no more,

And she in her accustomed glory moves,

Radiant and lovely, we shall still recall

How first we knew her—mourning vanished loves

With unbowed head, and dauntless brows that
bore

Thorns as a diadem imperial.

ALATA
Rouge Croix

(“Rouge Croix” is the name of a cross-road at
the entrance to the trenches near Neuve Chapelle.
The name is self-erplanatory.)

Bi IRE the wayside shrine we fall
While vet the hours are lerror-free,
Awhile to pray, awhile recall

The blood-red Cross of Calvary—

THE ROAD TO ARRAS 17

an nenemomepemenienasentessnnntntnaegee+’ cf tttNeannanuncasnenseasecen sess oessesenedennectreneeeuonsarosonsnsensaens ienceenssscusenseoasonsonoentn

O Christ, in hours of sharp alarm—

In dark defeat or triumph’s thrill—
Grant us to feel Thy strengthening arm,
To know that Thou art with us still;

Alike within the quiet room,

In that dim hush that bides the dark,
Or mid the raging shock of doom

Be Thou our Light and Guiding Mark—

Pierce through our stubborn, blinded night,
On our weak hearts Thy strength outpour,
That they before Thy radiant light

May set unsealed an open door.

From craven fear that bids us flee,
From vengeful hate that seeks its vent,
From pride that holds aloof from Thee,
And rebel guilt impenitent.

From our unnumbered, ancient sins,
And all our petty, sordid dross,
Cleanse us, O Christ, ere battle dims
The vision of Thy Crimson Cross.

And let our humble hearts atone

As in Thy presence now we bend,

That in Thy strength, and Thine alone,
We may endure unto the end.

USL su Gitaroo mera ene omen can anil

18 THE ROAD TO ARRAS

svvnvovnvnvvvvesenceneenencaeneocecencevecevsnnnvvencngncenceenereesoncecencenenecaceececnvoceomueucuensuseuteuantanneennnannaanaannananenngenet

The Sisters

HEN the world with flaming wrath was
throbbing,
When the earth and sky were dripping red,
When the night wind through the trees was
sobbing—
Sobbing for the still unburied dead.

When we lay with bodies shattered, broken—
Death had been a sweet release from pain—

With the words of anguish still unspoken,
Watching with dull eyes the spreading stain.

Then they came, with cooling, soothing fingers,
With the tranquil smile that speaks of peace,
Quieting the frame where torment lingers,
As they bade the raging fever cease—

By their acts of mercy all unnumbered,
By their tenderness and constant care,

By the hours they toiled while others stumbered ,
When we would have yielded to despair.

By the battles fought at death’s dark portal,
When they gave themselves our lives to bind,

They have won a crown that is immortal—
Deep, »biding love of all mankind.

Whereiore we, their debtors past all measure,
Though our faltering words be weak and crude,

Bear them for the life and love we treasure,
Boundless and undying gratitude.

(101° Again wanes: tmnt nat

eP

‘aURNat EN eka EY. Mati iemineis (Lh orden oe

|

mee ae

rao NCE LLESEKIMOSS | LEM taB ORS 4e O.

THE ROAD TO ARRAS 19

PIT sonnenccneeneentties

Les Blessés

These are they
Who having held the cup a moment's space
And drunk one draught of nectar, rich and warm,
Behold the crystal broken in the dust—
Dashed from their hands by some too scurvy Fate,
And the divine glad essence of the gods
That scarce had touched their lips, now trickles
slow
O’er the dull earth that can but dross its gold
And waste the vintage sweet in bitterness
Before their eyes, who yearn to taste again
Its magic preciousness, now lost for aye.

Because we dared to count our manhood free,
And grasp the naked sword,
And stand, defiant of eternity,
To back our trusted word—
Because we would not wait in fear and wonder
Till Death should come to claim us for his own,
But battered on his gates, ani ‘raved their
thunder,
And haled him forth alone.

Death rose before us sudden in his might
And gazed into our eyes,
And found therein no shrinking nor affright,
Nor any swift surprise.
But deep—so deep we thought it wholly ban-
ished—

r
i
F

epee

Sc) Tgp Rida cidacmanesonat rae ge rari

20 THE ROAD TO ARRAS

jORnennnenenacoceceonaceonneonennoncerosanonsaucnanenecsaonanecseconscessaoetes

He laughed, and brushed us with his wing, and
vanished,
And left us stricken there.

And we whom Youth had once made strong to
run
Now creep in weariness,
And through our days a thread of pain is spun
To bind our helplessness;
Heartsick we face the drab grey years, scarce
daring,
To seek amid the aloes and the rue
The balm of one fond love, in pity caring
To heal our faith anew .....

For these are they

Who having known the glory of the dawn,
And watched the ; “mise broaden into day,
Now stumble onward through a twilight cold
Ere yel the sun has sipped the dregs of dew;
And we who still walk upright in the light
Because the groping shadow passed us by,
Go humbly on our way with bended heads,

In helpless shame before their suffering.
Shoulder to shoulder we have risked with them
The thing we dreaded more than death itself,
And since unreckoning Fate has left us whole,
And laid on them the burden and the tears
Here do we take our solemn stand, and swear,
By all the aching debt we owe to them,
Ungrudging and unfalleringly to give

THE ROAD TO ARRAS 21

MI

Our hands, our eyes, our limbs, our very lives
If haply we may help to smooth their road,

And serve to lifl them through the shadowed vale
Into the radiance of a brighter day.

ALATA
Toa V.A.D.

4 INE is a stubborn pen,
Mine an untutored tongue;
I must depart again,
Leaving our thanks unsung.

But be you well assured
Deep in our hearts we know
All that you have endured,
All that you must forego—

So though our lips be dumb,
Yet may you learn some day,
In the long time when the world comes
home
All that our hearts would say.

PATALA]

22 THE ROAD TO ARRAS

-~
sevanevevnereerestamennnsovvensnomnnc oon toneenevivonunnanneittTobeenns4esaneenOoMHs#@H HAUTE

Our Dug-Out

HEN the lines are in a muddle—as they
very often are—

When the break’s a mile away from you, oF
maybe twice as far,

When you have to sort the trouble out and fix it
on the run,

It’s great to know that you can go, when every-
thing is done,

To a cosy little dug-out—and the subject of this
ode—

Just a comfy little bivvy on the Lens-to-Arras
Road,

A sheltered sandbagged doorway with the flap

flung open wide,
Anda pal to grin a greeting when you step inside.

When the weather's simply damnable—cold

sleet and driving rain—

When the poles snap off like matches and the
lines are down again

And you rip your freezing fingers as you work
the stubborn wire,

It’s great to get back home again, and dry off by
the fire

In a cheery little dug-out—and you know the

kind | mean—
With a red-hot stove a-roaring, and a floor that’s

none too clean,

THE ROAD TO ARRAS 23

PITT ok seneecanenennooesononedtt

A pipe that’s filled and waiting and a book that
will not wait,

And a cup of steaming coffee if you come back
late.

It may look a little crowded, and the roof’s a
trifle low,

But it’s water-tight—or nearly—and it wasn't
built for show,

And when Woolly Bears are crumping and the
shrapnel sprays around,

You feel a whole lot safer if you’re underneath
the ground

In a rat-proof, rain-proof dug-out—and it’s
splinter-proof as well—

Where we got the stuff to build it is a thing |
mustn’t tell,

But we've made it strong and solid, and we're
cosy, tain or shine,

In our happy little dug-out on the firing line.

Bod

24 THE ROAD TO ARRAS

snsveveenennnvunconoveunourvvnvnvstsnsnnacnsrgusgnegrneuvesruv vt tit tit svevevencuenenenenvenenconsnenennenenestane

Ballad of Open Warfare

UMBLING down the cobbled street,
Lurching through the town,
Skirting past the shadowed wheat
Ripening golden-brown,

Wheeling where the river runs,
Swinging into line.

We're the guns—the big guns—
Heading for the Rhine !

And we're rolling over Flanders—down the
sunset-tinted trail,

Through the creoning woods aquiver in the
swelling aut:.i:1n gale,

"Neath a sky of clouded amber that we scarce
may turn to see,

For we're rolling over Flanders on the road to

Germany.

Clinging to the crater’s edge
Where the road was mined,
Floundering through the slimy sedge
With the swamp behind,

Dropped beside the banked canal
Just at close of day—

We're the guns that wait your call
Come to clear the way!

THE ROAD TO ARRAS 25

OODnnTELINRL ODED ELHOnEGNOnEOEEOONeTONEetOtOneeeneetoOnen enone nen NoncoNE nae ante tnt HbOnaEEOCLOOOOR ONS HNOOEODED HOOD

And we're rolling over Flanders with a grim,
relentless stride,

With our reekin; muzzles bellowing forth our
hate and wrath and pride

Till the nights are flaming crimson and the dawn
brings no release,

For we're rolling over Flanders on the restless
road to peace.

Rattling past the poplars gaunt,
Through the shattered gate,
Where the tricoleur aflaunt
Floats repatriate,

Harrying the broken Huns,
Screaming shrapnel hurled,
We're the guns—the big guns—
Monar~hs of the world!

For we're rolling over Flanders, and our trail is
blazed with fire,

But the last long road leads homeward, and the
end is heart’s desire,

And the line goes sweeping forward by the grace
of such as we,

For we're rolling over Flanders on the road to
victory.

PAT ATA,

26 THE ROAD TO ARRAS

AOTEUEOCEEDVOLTAELENEEELDAAUEEEEEEDEADSDORUGOUOOENOSERDUOROENNSNONELIOCONSED IODC SONHEEDOOOLOEEDIEOOEDODEDREDOLOONO | VHVO Hi nHHENNUELCHTEOHONCOHORNEOOE

There is a Cavern

HERE is a cavern where the still sea lingers
Lapping and slipping through the quiet hall,
And whispers, in the soft-descending darkness,
Echo from wall to wall;

fibbdiséhabtatienn: sstne saitiatbhe nineties nameett

There in the glory of the golden twilight
Sweet-scented winds from far-off, filmy lands
Come lightly to caress the dreamy waters,
And gently kiss the sands,

:
fs And there I know, when this dread dream is over, ’
fe I shall return—to rest; and resting find :
ii The old accustomed things—the hopes and ;

Visions
So lately left: behind—

Then when the daylight dies in saffron splendor,
And all these tortured, fevered days are past,
Into the glad, warm West [ knew aforetime
I shall return at last.

ALATA,

i RRBs ‘nao nse eeeReR RUN abab ani tiks ead:

5, elated 5: hielo es | bt aah aati

Pbadbeh tse

SS tdb eed HEN! ene behets nebanambltbeameabem ea geen 4

eons tisth: spi oRteM Magi st tase tests»

bona

|
:

THE ROAD TO ARRAS 27

Triumph

HEY have not passed! Their scornful,
sneering lies,

Their senseless hate and blind brutality,
Their ranting boasts and unctuous blasphemies
Have naught availed—to us the victory!
The suffering and the sorrow and the pain,
The days of fear and nights of anxious dread,
The watching and the waiting, and the strain
Of drear uncertaint y—all these are fled—

They have not passed! Though blood and fire
and tears

And blasted hope and bitter agony

Have been our portion through the barren years--

Though from the mountains to the cleansing sea

Their trail o. uorror sears the patient land,

And crimson ruin marks the way they came,

Though all they knew of heart and head and hand

They flung against us like a scorching flame

They have not passed! O ye who died, then know

We have been faithful to the trust ye gave,

Nor ever faltered ’neath the sickening blow,

Lest ye who slumber in the shallow grave

Should wake to hear the tramp of feet profane,

And know yourselves betrayed, and so repent

The sacrifice—O ye for Freedom slain,

We have kept faith, and ye may sleep content—
They have not passed!

28 THE ROAD TO ARRAS

‘uvecnnceennnenerevncneenenseneneceeneeeenseenen ne tsseneseconenennnes eenteenineeanseneTeenne pT THE HUHHREEEE EINE PUREED EON N ORR REEEHEHE INTO

A Song Afte: —trife

eReader Tae

a a ee E

OW thanks be unto God, Who giveth us
The Viclory,
And praise unto our King the Lord of Hosts
Klernally,
For when evil men encompassed us with chariots
and with spears,
When walters proud had closed upon our soul,
He upheld us with His rightly arm throughout the
ballering years—
His grace hath been our shield lo save us whole:
So will He make our spirils strong, when dark the
thunders lower,
And unto Him forever be the kinadom and the
power
And the gluiy.

When Fate flings wide the clanging door that sets
the Terror free,
When danger thrills the trembling sword
awake,
And ye who bide in placid greed and yoked pros-
perity
Stare helpless as the rotted barriers break,
re they blind your eyes with banners, ere they
dull your ears with words,
re they bribe your cozened souls to bleat and

drift.

a SMR hak RGSS MOTT NGL RIIT CNRS Ae Sa. OEE TT ie

EST gn th gpeaT pk Se MR EANS HRA

Sian

THE ROAD TO ARRAS 29

HennennnanonnsnscerecescnnnecsenennscnnoenaneenenennoneannenaeeneNOonononontE tnienutornstenecednortsnercnsearanenserneeeneconieenneeoeonsonretes

As they sound the scornful challenge, raise the
gauntlet from the boards-—
Be ye swift! Be ye swift! Be ye swift!

When they whose cause had been your own, had
they been served as ye,
Whose hands with yours were oft in friendship
sealed,
Now prate of lofty destinies and proud humility--
And crouch in graceless safety ‘neath your
shield,
When the clamorous flood in tumult sweeps your
trusted stays away,
And your souls be sick from watching over-
long,
Give ye blow for for blow unflinching, though ye
front the world at bay—
Be ye strong! Be ye strong! Be ye strong!

And when adown the roaring street your con-
quering colors go,
And ever-verdant laurel hides your scars,
When through the murk and mistiness the
peaceful dawn rolls slow,
And glory piled on glory crowns the stars,
Ire ye beat and turn the ploughshare, ere the
pruning-hooks be cast,
Ere ye trust in Peace triumphant to endure,
Look ye that your walls be steady, that your
gates be firm and fast—
Be ye sure! Be ye sure! Fe ye sure!

i
t
i
H
ij
i
i
j

li
|
i
i
3

SERRE we eta Hear TaD

30 THE ROAD TO ARRAS

peavenenenvecesessiuennonnennneneveneuenennenanenenenenenesenegegneerenenenepMeneentnt MC eC a

Now thanks be unto Him Who giveth us
The Victory,
And praise unly His name both now and through
Eternity,
For in our despair He lifted us from out the fearful
pu,
And saved us from the deep and miry clay,
And hath sel our feet upon a rock which may nol
more a whit,
So firmly hath He stablished uw for aye.
Now unto Him, our present help, our sure defence
and lower,
Throughout the echoing ages be the kingdom and
the power
And the glory.

QOS

THE ROAD TO ARRAS 31

Goensapncaneacnneccnsncenssscetanencasscorseenssseareonscensscsnscsnssonssonenunnieitin Wetenenonenecncnencesacoansecansosconescnsansecnscnennecons

L Envoi

OW tne flame leaps on our altars, and we
worship as of old,
(Though the ashes have been cold so long)
Now the drowsy incense lingers in the embers’
flickering gold,
And our murmuring voices blend in song,

And we find the joyous echo of a careless mirth

In the twilight when the home wind stirs,

With our faces in the bosom of the kind old
earth,

And our hearts pressed close to hers,

And our weary faces soften and our eyes grow
gay

In the healing of the cool sweet dew,

For the dreary days of bitterness have passed
away,

And behold, all things are new.

940

3 3286 50053 0

acca
————
a
et
ee
———
od
——
—_——
——_
eee
——
—<———
en

OE geomet
Ese sotsapel

CD:

fete eg

a)
BREE

<7 te
aa. ral
een 2
; Ae:
4