War, the Liberator, and Other Pieces/Recruiting
RECRUITING
“LADS, you’re wanted, go and help,”On the railway carriage wallStuck the poster, and I thoughtOf the hands that penned the call.
Fat civilians wishing they“Could go out and fight the Hun.”Can’t you see them thanking GodThat they’re over forty-one?
Girls with feathers, vulgar songs—Washy verse on England’s need—God—and don’t we damned well knowHow the message ought to read.
“Lads, you’re wanted! over there,”Shiver in the morning dew,More poor devils like yourselvesWaiting to be killed by you.
Go and help to swell the namesIn the casualty lists.Help to make a column’s stuffFor the blasted journalists.
Help to keep them nice and safeFrom the wicked German foe.Don’t let him come over here!“Lads, you’re wanted—out you go.”
•••••
There’s a better word than that,Lads, and can’t you hear it comeFrom a million men that callYou to share their martyrdom,
Leave the harlots still to singComic songs about the Hun,Leave the fat old men to sayNow we’ve got them on the run.
Better twenty honest yearsThan their dull three score and ten.Lads, you’re wanted. Come and learnTo live and die with honest men.
You shall learn what men can doIf you will but pay the price,Learn the gaiety and strengthIn the gallant sacrifice.Take your risk of life and deathUnderneath the open sky.Live clean or go out quick—Lads, you’re wanted. Come and die.