AN APPEAL.
(By Canon J. Howard B. Masterman, M.A ) We gave our sons to England W ith pride and secret tears, With all the hope and promise Of their untarnished years, That they might do her bidding, That they might know her worth, And hold the troth of England Above all gain on earth.
And she, how has she guarded 'The men who heard her call, Cast off their ease and pleasure, And gladly gave their all, Lest, while young knighthood watches Its armour, like a snare, Some foul bend of the darkness Creep on it —unaware?
Her drink-shops reek around them, Her vice entraps their way, Before they face the battle Their souls are hers to slay, Too blind to see her duty, Too weak to guard her trust, She leaves the lives we lent her The spoil of drink and lust.
O England, we have given Our best to serve thy need, Not for a brewer’s protit, Not for a harlot’s greed, Fair in their life’s hrst promise, Earth’s foul ways yet unirod, Their lives are thine, O England, But guard their souls for God.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/periodicals/WHIRIB19150318.2.22
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White Ribbon, Volume 20, Issue 237, 18 March 1915, Page 12
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187AN APPEAL. White Ribbon, Volume 20, Issue 237, 18 March 1915, Page 12
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