God and the Right
LET England beware, ere for war she declare,
She incur not the mark of the beast—
That she march not her power the State to secure
Of the blood-imbued wolf of the East;
It might be her gain that State to maintain—
It might serve a purpose—it might—
But, if so, let her ask, how much nobler the task
To battle for God and the Right!
The Bulgarians—they and the Servians may
Have their faults and their failings—what then?
They are men, are they not? and if so, we are taught
By our feelings what men owe to men:
‘Neath their dark doom they cry, and their voice from
on high,
Wrings an answer that nerves for the fight—
Nay, Europe is thrilled, and her children have willed
To battle for God and the Right!
Such horrific crimes belong to past times—
And the coldest and hardest heart bleeds,
And a blush for our race paints with crimson each face
When we think of the Turk and his deeds:
Too awful are they for relation, nor may
Men know them and know a respite
To their heart-pangs till they have resolved for the fray,
And battle for God and the Right!
An unbounded thirst for lucre accurst
Must the down-trodden sate—even so—
And in this should they fail they are destined to wail
The merciless scourge of the foe:
On stakes will the Turk fix his victim and work
Him such anguish and woe, at the sight
The veriest serf grasps his sabre, resolved
To battle for God and the Right!
See! those dearer than life, the daughter and wife,
A prey to the torturer’s lust,
And the Rayah heart-torn, and yet ridiculed, mourn
His losses 'mid ashes and dust?
With his dear home despoiled, and his dear ones defiled,
And a wreck what was once his delight,
What wonder if he in delirium should flee
To battle for God and the Right!
The temple is burned and the altar’s o’erturned,
And with blood the street runnelets run;
And the prey-bird and beast hie in legions to feast
On the corpses that rot in the sun.
And the ban-dog’s harsh tones, as he crashes the bones,
Strike the wayfaring man in the night
With a deep sense of dread, while a voice from the dead
Seems to cry, “Arm for God and the Right!”
For God and the Right, the Revolted States fight,
And whatever the sequel and end,
If then too must fight—fight for God and the Right,
And God shall in turn be thy friend:
The gold-kings may shrink at the dictum, but think,
Yea, hold-to thy duty, and smite—
Smite the cold-blooded Turk till he find higher work,
Than to battle 'gainst God and the Right.
The following appeared in the "Newcastle Weekly Chronicle,"
November 18th, 1876.
#1878 #ABookOfMiscellaneousLyrics #EnglishWriters #VictorianWriters
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