THE DAY.

Taihape Daily Times, 28 November 1918, Page 3

THE DAY.

You boasted the Day, and you toasted the Day, And now the Day has comb, Blasphemer, braggart, and coward all, Little you reck of the numbing ball, The blasting Shell or the "white arm’s fall. As they speed poor humans home. You spied for the Day, and you lied for the Day, And woke the Diay’s red spleen,Monster who asked God's aid Divine, Then strewed His seas with the ghastly mine; Hot all the waters of the Ehine Can wash thy foul hands clean. You dreamed for the Day, and you schemed for the Day, Watch how the Day will go, Slayer, of. age, and youth and prime (Defenceless slain for never a crime), Thou art stooped in blood as a hog is slime, False friend and cowardly foe. You have sown for the' Day, you have grown for the Day, Yours is the harvest red, Can you hear the groans and the awful cries, Can you see the heap of the slain that lies? And sightless turned to the flame-split skies. The glassy eyes of the dead! You have wronged for the Day, you have longed fqr the Day, That lit the awful flame, ’Tis nothing to you that hill and plain Yield sheaves of dead men amid the grain; That widows mourn for their loved ones slain, And mothers curse they name? But after the Day, there’s a price to pay, For the sleepers under the sod, And He you have mocked for many a Day, Listen and hear what He has to say; "Vengeance is mine, I will repay!” What can you say to God? —Henry Chappell, in the London Daily Express. h The author of this poem, says the Express, ‘i(s Mr. itHjdnry Chappell, a railway porter at Bath. Mr Chappell is well-known to his comrades as "The Bath "Railway Poet.”