John Masefield
DEMOCRACY’S best pen, with passion vowed
‘To maimed and halt and blind, in rain and cold,’
Three mighty epics of the poor hath told:
The Dauber freezing in the sleeted shroud;
The widow kneeling in the gallows crowd;
And that great idyl of the windy wold, —
The drunkard walking where the dawn unrolled,
And with changed eyes beholding one who ploughed.
‘To maimed and halt and blind, in rain and cold,’
Three mighty epics of the poor hath told:
The Dauber freezing in the sleeted shroud;
The widow kneeling in the gallows crowd;
And that great idyl of the windy wold, —
The drunkard walking where the dawn unrolled,
And with changed eyes beholding one who ploughed.
Again, immortal, yoke that share divine
And fix our eyes ‘ forever on that sign’:
Plough deep our souls, that can with mirth endure
Ease to ourselves and burdens to the poor;
Convert us wastrels; O undying pen,
Harrow our hearts, ‘that we may flower to men.
And fix our eyes ‘ forever on that sign’:
Plough deep our souls, that can with mirth endure
Ease to ourselves and burdens to the poor;
Convert us wastrels; O undying pen,
Harrow our hearts, ‘that we may flower to men.