BY RUDYARD KIPLING.

God of our fathers, known of old,

Lord of our far-flung battle line,

Beneath whose awful hand we hold

Dominion over palm and pine

Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,

Lest we forget--lest we forget!

The tumult and the shouting dies;

The captains and the kings depart;

Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice,

An humble and a contrite heart.

Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,

Lest we forget--lest we forget!

Far-called, our navies melt away;

On dune and headland sinks the fire;

Lo, all our pomp of yesterday

Is one with Nineveh and Tyre!

Judge of the nations, spare us yet,

Lest we forget--lest we forget!

If, drunk with sight of power, we loose

Wild tongues that have not Thee in awe--

Such boasting as the Gentiles use,

Or lesser breeds without the Law--

Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,

Lest we forget--lest we forget!

For heathen heart that puts her trust

In reeking tube and iron shard--

All valiant dust that builds on dust,

And guarding, calls not Thee to guard--

For frantic boast and foolish word,

Thy mercy on Thy people, Lord!

Amen.

The Scrap Book, Volume 1, No. 6 August 1906 · 第 19 / 113 题