The Poems of Henry Van Dyke Part 36

I

All day long in the city's canyon-street, With its populous cliffs alive on either side, I saw a river of marching men like a tide Flowing after the flag: and the rhythmic beat Of the drums, and the bugles' resonant blare Metred the tramp, tramp, tramp of a myriad feet, While the red-white-and-blue was fluttering everywhere, And the heart of the crowd kept time to a martial air:

_O brave flag, O bright flag, O flag to lead the free!

The glory of thy silver stars, Engrailed in blue above the bars Of red for courage, white for truth, Has brought the world a second youth And drawn a hundred million hearts to follow after thee._

II

Old Cambridge saw thee first unfurled, By Was.h.i.+ngton's far-reaching hand, To greet, in Seventy-six, the wintry morn Of a new year, and herald to the world Glad tidings from a Western land,-- A people and a hope new-born!

The double cross then filled thine azure field, In token of a spirit loath to yield The breaking ties that bound thee to a throne.

But not for long thine oriflamme could bear That symbol of an outworn trust in kings.

The wind that bore thee out on widening wings Called for a greater sign and all thine own,-- A new device to speak of heavenly laws And lights that surely guide the people's cause.

Oh, greatly did they hope, and greatly dare, Who bade the stars in heaven fight for them, And set upon their battle-flag a fair New constellation as a diadem!

Along the blood-stained banks of Brandywine The ragged troops were rallied to this sign; Through Saratoga's woods it fluttered bright Amid the perils of the hard-won fight; O'er Yorktown's meadows broad and green It hailed the glory of the final scene; And when at length Manhattan saw The last invaders' line of scarlet coats Pa.s.s Bowling Green, and fill the waiting boats And sullenly withdraw, The flag that proudly flew Above the battered line of buff and blue, Marching, with rattling drums and shrilling pipes, Along the Bowery and down Broadway, Was this that leads the great parade to-day,-- The glorious banner of the stars and stripes.

_First of the flags of earth to dare A heraldry so high; First of the flags of earth to bear The blazons of the sky; Long may thy constellation glow, Foretelling happy fate; Wider thy starry circle grow, And every star a State!_

III

Pa.s.s on, pa.s.s on, ye flas.h.i.+ng files Of men who march in militant array; Ye thrilling bugles, throbbing drums, Ring out, roll on, and die away; And fade, ye crowds, with the fading day!

Around the city's lofty piles Of steel and stone The lilac veil of dusk is thrown, Entangled full of sparks of fairy light; And the never-silent heart of the city hums To a homeward-turning tune before the night.

But far above, on the sky-line's broken height, From all the towers and domes outlined In gray and gold along the city's crest, I see the rippling flag still take the wind With a promise of good to come for all mankind.

IV

O banner of the west, No proud and brief parade, That glorifies a nation's holiday With show of troops for warfare dressed, Can rightly measure or display The mighty army thou hast made Loyal to guard thy more than royal sway.

Millions have come across the sea To find beneath thy shelter room to grow; Millions were born beneath thy folds and know No other flag but thee.

And other, darker millions bore the yoke Of bondage in thy borders till the voice Of Lincoln spoke, And sent thee forth to set the bondmen free.

Rejoice, dear flag, rejoice!

Since thou hast proved and pa.s.sed that bitter strife, Richer thy red with blood of heroes wet, Purer thy white through sacrificial life, Brighter thy blue wherein new stars are set.

Thou art become a sign, Revealed in heaven to speak of things divine: Of Truth that dares To slay the lie it sheltered unawares; Of Courage fearless in the fight, Yet ever quick its foemen to forgive; Of Conscience earnest to maintain its right And gladly grant the same to all who live.

Thy staff is deeply planted in the fact That nothing can enn.o.ble man Save his own act, And naught can make him worthy to be free But practice in the school of liberty.

The cords are two that lift thee to the sky: Firm faith in G.o.d, the King who rules on high; And never-failing trust In human nature, full of faults and flaws, Yet ever answering to the inward call That bids it set the "ought" above the "must,"

In all its errors wiser than it seems, In all its failures full of generous dreams, Through endless conflict rising without pause To self-dominion, charactered in laws That pledge fair-play alike to great and small, And equal rights for each beneath the rule of all.

These are thy halyards, banner bold, And while these hold, Thy brightness from the sky shall never fall, Thy broadening empire never know decrease,-- Thy strength is union and thy glory peace.

V

Look forth across thy widespread lands, O flag, and let thy stars to-night be eyes To see the visionary hosts Of men and women grateful to be thine, That joyfully arise From all thy borders and thy coasts, And follow after thee in endless line!

They lift to thee a forest of saluting hands; They hail thee with a rolling ocean-roar Of cheers; and as the echo dies, There comes a sweet and moving song Of treble voices from the childish throng Who run to thee from every school-house door.

Behold thine army! Here thy power lies: The men whom freedom has made strong, And bound to follow thee by willing vows; The women greatened by the joys Of motherhood to rule a happy house; The vigorous girls and boys, Whose eager faces and unclouded brows Foretell the future of a n.o.ble race, Rich in the wealth of wisdom and true worth!

While millions such as these to thee belong, What foe can do thee wrong, What jealous rival rob thee of thy place Foremost of all the flags of earth?

VI

My vision darkens as the night descends; And through the mystic atmosphere I feel the creeping coldness that portends A change of spirit in my dream The mult.i.tude that moved with song and cheer Have vanished, yet a living stream Flows on and follows still the flag, But silent now, with leaden feet that lag And falter in the deepening gloom,-- A weird battalion bringing up the rear.

Ah, who are these on whom the vital bloom Of life has withered to the dust of doom?

These little pilgrims prematurely worn And bent as if they bore the weight of years?

These childish faces, pallid and forlorn, Too dull for laughter and too hard for tears?

Is this the ghost of that insane crusade That led ten thousand children long ago, A flock of innocents, deceived, betrayed, Yet pressing on through want and woe To meet their fate, faithful and unafraid?

Nay, for a million children now Are marching in the long pathetic line, With weary step and early wrinkled brow; And at their head appears no holy sign Of hope in heaven; For unto them is given No cross to carry, but a cross to drag.

Before their strength is ripe they bear The load of labour, toiling underground In dangerous mines and breathing heavy air Of crowded shops; their tender lives are bound To service of the whirling, clattering wheels That fill the factories with dust and noise; They are not girls and boys, But little "hands" who blindly, dumbly feed With their own blood the hungry G.o.d of Greed.

Robbed of their natural joys, And wounded with a scar that never heals, They stumble on with heavy-laden soul, And fall by thousands on the highway lined With little graves; or reach at last their goal Of stunted manhood and embittered age, To brood awhile with dark and troubled mind, Beside the smouldering fire of sullen rage, On life's unfruitful work and n.i.g.g.ard wage.

Are these the regiments that Freedom rears To serve her cause in coming years?

Nay, every life that Avarice doth maim And beggar in the helpless days of youth, Shall surely claim A just revenge, and take it without ruth; And every soul denied the right to grow Beneath the flag, shall be its secret foe.

Bow down, dear land, in penitence and shame!

Remember now thine oath, so n.o.bly sworn, To guard an equal lot For every child within thy borders born!

These are thy children whom thou hast forgot: They have the bitter right to live, but not The blessed right to look for happiness.

O lift thy liberating hand once more, To loose thy little ones from dark duress; The vital gladness to their hearts restore In healthful lessons and in happy play; And set them free to climb the upward way That leads to self-reliant n.o.bleness.

Speak out, my country, speak at last, As thou hast spoken in the past, And clearly, bravely say: "I will defend The coming race on whom my hopes depend: Beneath my flag and on my sacred soil No child shall bear the crus.h.i.+ng yoke of toil."

VII

Look up, look up, ye downcast eyes!

The night is almost gone: Along the new horizon flies The banner of the dawn; The eastern sky is banded low With white and crimson bars, While far above the morning glow The everlasting stars.

_O bright flag, O brave flag, O flag to lead the free!

The hand of G.o.d thy colours blent, And heaven to earth thy glory lent, To s.h.i.+eld the weak, and guide the strong To make an end of human wrong, And draw a countless human host to follow after thee!_

STAIN NOT THE SKY

Ye G.o.ds of battle, lords of fear, Who work your iron will as well As once ye did with sword and spear, With rifled gun and rending sh.e.l.l,-- Masters of sea and land, forbear The fierce invasion of the inviolate air!

With patient daring man hath wrought A hundred years for power to fly; And will you make his winged thought A hovering horror in the sky, Where flocks of human eagles sail, Dropping their bolts of death on hill and dale?

Ah no, the sunset is too pure, The dawn too fair, the noon too bright For wings of terror to obscure Their beauty, and betray the night That keeps for man, above his wars, The tranquil vision of untroubled stars.

Pa.s.s on, pa.s.s on, ye lords of fear!

Your footsteps in the sea are red, And black on earth your paths appear With ruined homes and heaps of dead.

Pa.s.s on to end your transient reign, And leave the blue of heaven without a stain.

The wrong ye wrought will fall to dust, The right ye s.h.i.+elded will abide; The world at last will learn to trust In law to guard, and love to guide; And Peace of G.o.d that answers prayer Will fall like dew from the inviolate air.

March 5, 1914.

PEACE-HYMN OF THE REPUBLIC