FROM THE GREAT WAR
213
Awake!
Meet on the Common!
The world's at stake!
On the highways they ride, our fathers!
They knock at our doors in the night!
Have you no ear for Justice?
Have you no hands for the Right?
Up from your beds, you dawdlers!
Say not we died in vain.
Out of the rusty scabbard
Whip the spirit again!
The ghosts are not an army
With sword and gleaming gun.
They are riders like the rider
Who rode to Lexington!
And every sash they rattle,
And every door they shake;
And to every goal-forgetful soul
To every slumbering, laggard soul,
They cry. Craven, awake!
