The nearest mob will move him
To break the pledge he gave-
Oh a Servant when He Reigneth
Is more than ever slave!

MACDONOUGH'S SONG

WHETHER the State can loose and bind

In Heaven as well as on Earth:

If it be wiser to kill mankind
Before or after the birth-
These are matters of high concern
Where State-kept schoolmen are;
But Holy State (we have lived to learn)
Endeth in Holy War.

Whether The People be led by the Lord,
Or lured by the loudest throat:
If it be quicker to die by the sword
Or cheaper to die by vote-

These are things we have dealt with once,
(And they will not rise from their grave)
For Holy People, however it runs,
Endeth in wholly Slave.

Whatsoever, for any cause,

Seeketh to take or give,

Power above or beyond the Laws,

Suffer it not to live!

Holy State or Holy King

Or Holy People's Will—

Have no truck with the senseless thing.

Order the guns and kill!

Saying-after-me:—

Once there was The People-Terror gave it birth;
Once there was The People and it made a Hell of Earth.
Earth arose and crushed it. Listen, O ye slain!
Once there was The People-it shall never be again!

"OUR FATHERS OF OLD"

EXCELLENT herbs had our fathers of old-
Excellent herbs to ease their pain-

Alexanders and Marigold,

Eyebright, Orris, and Elecampane.
Basil, Rocket, Valerian, Rue,

(Almost singing themselves they run)
Vervain, Dittany, Call-me-to-you-
Cowslip, Melilot, Rose of the Sun.

Anything green that grew out of the mould
Was an excellent herb to our fathers of old.

Wonderful tales had our fathers of old

Wonderful tales of the herbs and the stars-
The Sun was Lord of the Marigold,
Basil and Rocket belonged to Mars.
Pat as a sum in division it goes-
(Every herb had a planet bespoke)—
Who but Venus should govern the Rose?
Who but Jupiter own the Oak?

Simply and gravely the facts are told

In the wonderful books of our fathers of old.

Wonderful little, when all is said,

Wonderful little our fathers knew.

Half their remedies cured you dead

Most of their teaching was quite untrue

"Look at the stars when a patient is ill,
(Dirt has nothing to do with disease,)
Bleed and blister as much as you will,
Blister and bleed him as oft as you please."
Whence enormous and manifold

Errors were made by our fathers of old.

Yet when the sickness was sore in the land,
And neither planets nor herbs assuaged,
They took their lives in their lancet-hand

And, oh, what a wonderful war they waged!
Yes, when the crosses were chalked on the door-
(Yes, when the terrible dead-cart rolled,)
Excellent courage our fathers bore-

Excellent heart had our fathers of old.
None too learned, but nobly bold
Into the fight went our fathers of old.

If it be certain, as Galen says

And sage Hippocrates holds as much-
"That those afflicted by doubts and dismays
Are mightily helped by a dead man's touch,"
Then, be good to us, stars above!

Then, be good to us, herbs below!

We are afflicted by what we can prove,
We are distracted by what we know—
So-ah, so!

Down from your heaven or up from your mould,
Send us the hearts of our fathers of old!

THE HERITAGE

UR Fathers in a wondrous age,

OUR

Ere yet the Earth was small,

Ensured to us an heritage,

And doubted not at all

That we, the children of their heart,
Which then did beat so high,

In later time should play like part
For our posterity.

A thousand years they steadfast built,
To 'vantage us and ours,

The Walls that were a world's despair,
The sea-constraining Towers:

Yet in their midmost pride they knew,
And unto Kings made known,

Not all from these their strength they drew,
Their faith from brass or stone.

Youth's passion, manhood's fierce intent, With age's judgment wise,

They spent, and counted not they spent, At daily sacrifice.

Not lambs alone nor purchased doves

Or tithe of trader's gold

Their lives most dear, their dearer loves, They offered up of old.

Refraining e'en from lawful things,
They bowed the neck to bear
The unadorned yoke that brings
Stark toil and sternest care.
Wherefore through them is Freedom sure;
Wherefore through them we stand,
From all but sloth and pride secure,
In a delightsome land.

Then, fretful, murmur not they gave

So great a charge to keep,

Nor dream that awestruck Time shall save Their labour while we sleep.

Dear-bought and clear, a thousand year,
Our fathers' title runs.

Make we likewise their sacrifice,
Defrauding not our sons.

CHAPTER HEADINGS

BEAST AND MAN IN INDIA

THEY killed a child to please the Gods
In earth's young penitence,

And I have bled in that Babe's stead
Because of innocence.

I bear the sins of sinful men
That have no sin of my own,

They drive me forth to Heaven's wrath
Unpastured and alone.

I am the meat of sacrifice,

The ransom of man's guilt,

For they give my life to the altar-knife
Wherever shrine is built.

The Goat.

Between the waving tufts of jungle-grass,
Up from the river as the twilight falls,
Across the dust-beclouded plain they pass
On to the village walls.

Great is the sword and mighty is the pen,
But over all the labouring ploughman's blade-
For on its oxen and its husbandmen

An Empire's strength is laid.

The Oxen.