"I am not one who was born in the custody of wisdom. I am one who is fond of olden times and intense in quest of the sacred knowing of the ancients." Gustave Courbet

30 May 2016

Yet.


RECESSIONAL

1897

God of our fathers, known of old, 
   Lord of our far-flung battle-line, 
Beneath whose awful Hand we hold 
   Dominion over palm and pine— 
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, 
Lest we forget—lest we forget! 

The tumult and the shouting dies; 
   The Captains and the Kings depart: 
Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice, 
   An humble and a contrite heart. 
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, 
Lest we forget—lest we forget! 

Far-called, our navies melt away; 
   On dune and headland sinks the fire: 
Lo, all our pomp of yesterday 
   Is one with Nineveh and Tyre! 
Judge of the Nations, spare us yet, 
Lest we forget—lest we forget! 

If, drunk with sight of power, we loose 
   Wild tongues that have not Thee in awe, 
Such boastings as the Gentiles use, 
   Or lesser breeds without the Law— 
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, 
Lest we forget—lest we forget! 

For heathen heart that puts her trust 
   In reeking tube and iron shard, 
All valiant dust that builds on dust, 
   And guarding, calls not Thee to guard, 
For frantic boast and foolish word— 
Thy mercy on Thy People, Lord!

Rudyard Kipling

No comments: