Read Ebook: Ballads of Peace in War by Earls Michael

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Ebook has 193 lines and 13964 words, and 4 pages

June of the trees in glory, June of the meadows gay! O, and it works a story To tell an October day.

Blooms of the apple and cherry Toil for the far-off hours; Never is idleness merry, In song of the garden bowers.

Brooks to the sea from mountains, Yea, and from field and vine: Rain and the sun are fountains That gather for wheat and wine.

Cellar and loft shall glory, Table and hearth shall praise, Hearing October's story Of June and the merry days.

A BALLAD OF FRANCE

Ye who heed a nation's call And speed to arms therefor, Ye who fear your children's march To perils of the war,-- Soldiers of the deck and camp And mothers of our men, Hearken to a tale of France And tell it oft again.

In the east of France by the roads of war, Up and down the fair land iron armies came, .

Pleasant all the fields were round every town, Garden airs went sweetly up, heaven smiled down; Till under leaden hail with flaming breath, Graves and ashen harvest were the keep of death.

One little town stood, white on a hill, Chapel and hostel gates, farms and windmill, Chapel and countryside met the gunner's path, Till no blade of kindly grass hid from his wrath.

Lo! When the terrain cleared out of murky air, When mid the ruins stalked death and despair, One figure stood erect, bright with day,-- Christ the Crucified, though His Cross was shot away.

Flame and shot tore away all the tender wood, Yet with arms uplifted Christ His Figure stood; Out reached the blessing hands, meek bowed the head, Christ! The saving solace o'er the waste of dead.

France tells the story, make our hearts know well, Christ His Figure stands against the gates of hell: Flame and shot may rive the fortress walls apart, Christ the Crucified will heal the breaking heart.

Wear Him day and night, wherever be the war, Flag and heart that keep Him fear not shot and flame, .

Ye who guard a nation's call And speed to arms therefor, Ye who pray for brave lads gone To perils of the war; Soldiers of the fleet and fort And mothers of our men, In the shadow of the Cross Shall we find peace again.

TO ONE IN SUCCESS

A world's new faces greet you, Ten thousand quick with praise, But truer stay to meet you Old friends and other days: Let fickle changes hurt you, One fame shall ne'er desert you In true hearts like this heart.

THE LIFELONG WAR

Still goes the strife; the anguish does not die. Stronger the flesh is grown from earthy years, In siege about my soul that upward peers To see and hold its Good. The spirit's eye Approves the better things; but senses spy The passing sweets, spurning the present fears, And take their moment's prize. Ah, then hot tears Deluge my soul, and contrite moans my cry!

Courage, my heart: bright patience to the end! Few years remain; then goes the warring wall Of sensely flesh, that men will throw to earth. So be it; so the contrite soul shall wend A homeward way unto the Captain's call, Eternally to know contrition's worth.

LINDEN LANE

HOLY CROSS: MAY, 1917

Birds are merry and the buds Come along with May: Lonely is the linden land For lads that went today.

What calls the May of song But the fair young spring? Heard our boys another tune Sterner voices sing.

Bugles blew by land and sea, And the tocsin drum; See, brave hearts go down the hill, Shouting, "Hail, we come."

From the towers that show the Cross, Staunch the Flag waved out, And the royal Purple shook Joyous with the shout.

Heigh-ho! And a lusty cheer, Down the linden lane: The pine grove looked but cannot tell If they'll come home again.

Few may take the homeward road When the war is done: Where they fall or when they come, Hail, to the cause they won.

Till the buds and the merry birds Come another May, Cross and Flag aloft shall bless Brave lads who went today.

THE BOUNDARIES OF A HOUSE

Along the north a mountain crest, A row of trees runs towards the west; The south is all a field for play, For work the east has marked a way; The night shows all the stars above, And the long, long day, a mother's love.

ATTAINMENT

Let me go back again. There is the road, O memory! The humble garden lane So young with me. Let me rebuild again The start of faith and hope by that abode; Amend with morning freshness all the code Of youth's desire; remap my chart's demesne With tuneful joy, and plan a far campaign For better marches in ambition's mode.

Ah, no, my heart! More certain now the skies For joy abide: the cage of tree and sod, Horizons firm that faith and hope attain, Far realms of innocence in children's eyes, And hearts harmonious with the will of God:-- These might I miss if I were back again.

THE PHILOSOPHERS

The best of true philosophers Are the children, after all,-- The children with laughing hearts And the serious field and ball: They have a bowl and bubbles, And hours where rainbows are; They find, if ever the sun is hid, In every dark a star.

But, O, the sorry men that make The wise books of our day! They cannot smile athwart a cloud, When black thoughts lead astray; They cannot add a simple sum, But talk like drunken men, And shut their eyes to keep out God When spring comes in again.

Far simpler than the Rule of Three Are the laws of earth and sky; Yet fools will muddle all true thought, And pride will have its cry; The banners with their deadly words Go reeling on unfurled, And sin and sadness march along To the heartbreak of the world.

THE PHILOSOPHERS

But the children are the wise men, With the clearest heart and mind; If two and one are three, they say, Then truth is near to find; If this be now that once was not, If things must have a cause, Then very simple is the sum That God is in His laws.

The world's men that are fools enough, They will not speak that way, But with a cloud of muddled thought They hide the light of day; Yet laughing words and candid truth Abide by field and hall, Where the best of true philosophers Are the children, after all.

PREPAREDNESS

You never know when war may come, And that is why I keep a drum: For if all sudden in the night From east or west came battle fright, And you were sound asleep in bed, And very soon to join the dead, You then would gladly wish my drum Would warn you that the war had come.

So that is why on afternoons I tell the neighborhood my tunes: Sometimes behind a fortress bench, Or where the hedges make a trench, I beat the drum with all my might, While people look with awful fright, Just as they would if war had come, And heard the warning of my drum.

They must be thankful, I am sure, Because they now may feel secure, And rest so safe and sound in bed, Without wild dreams of fearful dread; For now they hear me all the day, As round the yard I march and play, To let them know if war should come They'll get the warning of my drum.

A sailor that rides the ocean wave, And I in my room at home: Where are the seas I fear to brave, Or the lands I may not roam? At the attic window I take my stand, And tighten the curtain sail, Then, ahoy! I ride the leagues of land, Whether in calm or gale.

Tree at anchor along the road Bow as I speed along; At sunny brooks in the valley I load Cargoes of blossom and song; Stories I take on the passing wind From the plains and forest seas, And the Golden Fleece I yet will find, And the fruit of Hesperides.

Steady I keep my watchful eyes, As I range the thousand miles, Till evening tides in western skies Turn gold the cloudland isles; Then fast is the hatch and dark the screen, And I bring my cabin light; With a wink I change to a submarine And drop in the sea of Night.

WAR IN THE NORTH

Not from Mars and not from Thor Comes the war, the welcome war, Many months we waited for To free us from the bondage Of Winter's gloomy reign: Valor to our hope is bound, Songs of courage loud resound, Vowed is Spring to win her ground Through all our northern country, From Oregon to Maine.

All our loyal brave allies In the Southlands mobilize, Faith is sworn to our emprise, The scouting breezes whisper That help is sure today: Vanguards of the springtime rains Cannonade the hills and plains, Freeing them from Winter's chains, So birds and buds may flourish Around the throne of May.

Hark! and hear the clarion call Bluebirds give by fence and wall! Look! The darts of sunlight fall, And red shields of the robins Ride boldly down the leas; Hail! The cherry banners shine, Onward comes the battle line,-- On! White dogwood waves the sign, And exile troops of blossoms Are sailing meadow seas.

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