A treasury of war poetry, British and American poems of the world war, 1914-1919/To America (Roberts)

by Morley Roberts

TO AMERICA

WHATEVER penman wrote or orator
Declaimed, I could not, for the soul of me,
Deem that the West had lost of liberty
All but the name, and feared the sounds of War:
Of them and theirs I was not ignorant, nor
Had failed to learn what impulse set them free
When alien kings held England's realm in fee,
And what, in conquering, they had battled for.

Kinsmen! I see, in these dark pregnant hours
Of shadow, when the heavens are overcast
With smoke of ruined fanes and ancient towers,
While throttled peoples yield and nations die,
The morning star of vengeance shine at last,
And hear your armies thundering prophecy.

Morley Roberts