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Not a lion of them all.
If you can dream and not make dreams
your master; If you can think and not make
thoughts your aim; If you can meet with Triumph and Dis
aster And treat those two impostors just the
If you can bear to hear the truth you've The tumult and the shouting dies; spoken
The captains and the kings depart: Twisted by knaves to make a trap for Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice, fools,
An humble and a contrite heart. Or watch the things you gave your life Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, to broken,
Lest we forget - lest we forget! And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools.
Far-called, our navies melt away;
On dune and headland sinks the fire: If you can make one heap of all your
Lo, all our pomp of yesterday winnings
Is one with Nineveh and Tyre! And risk it on one turn of pitch-and- Judge of the Nations, spare us yet, toss,
Lest we forget - lest we forget! And lose, and start again at your beginnings
If, drunk with sight of power, we loose And never breathe a word about your Wild tongues that have not Thee in loss;
awe, If you can force your heart and nerve and Such boasting as the Gentiles use, sinew
Or lesser breeds without the Law To serve your turn long after they are Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, gone,
Lest we forget - lest we forget! And so hold on when there is nothing in you
For heathen heart that puts her trust Except the Will which says to them:
In reeking tube and iron shard, "Hold on!”
All valiant dust that builds on dust
And, guarding, calls not Thee to guard, If you can talk with crowds and keep For frantic boast and foolish word
Thy Mercy on Thy People, Lord! Amen. Or walk with Kings nor lose the
common touch, If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt
JOHN MASEFIELD you, If all men count with you, but none
BEAUTY too much; If you can fill the unforgiving minute I HAVE seen dawn and sunset on moors With sixty seconds' worth of distance and windy hills run,
Coming in solemn beauty like slow old Yours is the Earth and everything that's tunes of Spain: in it,
I have seen the lady April bringing the And which is more
you'll be a daffodils, Man, my son!
Bringing the springing grass and the soft
warm April rain.
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!
I have heard the song of the blossoms
and the old chant of the sea, And seen strange lands from under the
arched white sails of ships; But the loveliest things of beauty God
ever has showed to me Are her voice, and her hair, and eyes, and
the dear red curve of her lips.