| Louis Untermeyer, ed. (18851977). Modern British Poetry. 1920. |
| |
| John Masefield. 1878 |
| |
| 97. A Consecration |
| |
| NOT of the princes and prelates with periwigged charioteers | |
| Riding triumphantly laurelled to lap the fat of the years, | |
| Rather the scornedthe rejectedthe men hemmed in with the spears; | |
| |
| The men of the tattered battalion which fights till it dies, | |
| Dazed with the dust of the battle, the din and the cries. | 5 |
| The men with the broken heads and the blood running into their eyes. | |
| |
| Not the be-medalled Commander, beloved of the throne, | |
| Riding cock-horse to parade when the bugles are blown, | |
| But the lads who carried the koppie and cannot be known. | |
| |
| Not the ruler for me, but the ranker, the tramp of the "road, | 10 |
| The slave with the sack on his shoulders pricked on with the goad, | |
| The man with too weighty a burden, too weary a load. | |
| |
| The sailor, the stoker of steamers, the man with the clout, | |
| The chantyman bent at the halliards putting a tune to the shout, | |
| The drowsy man at the wheel and the tired look-out. | 15 |
| |
| Others may sing of the wine and the wealth and the mirth, | |
| The portly presence of potentates goodly in girth; | |
| Mine be the dirt and the dross, the dust and scum of the earth! | |
| |
| Theirs be the music, the colour, the glory, the gold; | |
| Mine be a handful of ashes, a mouthful of mould. | 20 |
| Of the maimed, of the halt and the blind in the rain and the cold | |
| Of these shall my songs be fashioned, my tales be told. | |
| |
| AMEN. | |
|
|