The Last Call.

Huntly Press and District Gazette, Volume 4, 7 January 1916, Page 3

The Last Call.

(By Harold Begbie, in the “Daily Chronicle,” October 9.) Fight it out in your heart, my lad, It’s time for the final wrench ; Home has it’s arms about your neck, But Conscience points to the trench. Your brothers fought thro’ that selfsame fight, Ere they rallied to face the Hun: And where would your home be now, my lad t If Conscience had not won? It isn’t an easy choice to make, But it can be made and must; Shirk, and you bring the finest thing In your soul and ours to the dust. Your brothers wrestled with God 4 and cried That God should leave them alone ; And where would your soul seek Heaven to-day .Had God been overthrown. The eyes of our women search your face, Our children look as your pass; How does it feel to meet those eyes. And yonr own eyes in the glass? Hard, hard for you now to meet those eyes, With their challenge : “How can you wait?” But where will you hide from your brother’s eyes If you should come too late ? This is the last, the last free call To go as your brothers went, To go as heroic Britons should, Not wait till they’re fetched and sent. Win your first fight, the fight with self, Be swift with that gallant blow, Then, on to your second fight, good lad, And crush God’s other foe.