IN PRAISE OF RIGHTEOUS WAR
I am coming not in a weakling's verse, with a milksop's feeble whine,
With uplifted hand and with soft-voiced drawl, aghast at the battle-line;
But I come to praise the fight that is fought for the sake of Truth and Right,
The fight that is fought for God and for Home, that will mate the Right with Might.
Yes, patience is good, and humility, too, and so is the pipe of peace;
But the time will come when forbearance ends, and your sugary smiles must cease;
Then either your hand must grip at your gun and brighten the sword from its rust,
Or your slavish neck must bend to the yoke, and your mouth must chew the dust.
You must fight for the fire that toasts your feet, for the roof that shelters your head,
For the herd that yields you its milk or meat, for the field that gives you bread;
You must fight for bed, you must fight for board, for the woman you love the best.
And, oh, you must fight with a tenfold will for the baby at her breast.
