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George Herbert Clarke, ed. (1873–1953). A Treasury of War Poetry. 1917.

John Galsworthy


A WIND in the world! The dark departs;

The chains now rust that crushed men’s flesh and bones,

Feet tread no more the mildewed prison stones,

And slavery is lifted from your hearts.

A wind in the world! O Company

Of darkened Russia, watching long in vain,

Now shall you see the cloud of Russia’s pain

Go shrinking out across a summer sky.

A wind in the world! Our God shall be

In all the future left, no kingly doll

Decked out with dreadful sceptre, steel, and stole,

But walk the earth—a man, in Charity.

. . . . . .

A wind in the world! And doubts are blown

To dust along, and the old stars come forth—

Stars of a creed to Pilgrim Fathers worth

A field of broken spears and flowers strown.

A wind in the world! Now truancy

From the true self is ended; to her part

Steadfast again she moves, and from her heart

A great America cries: Death to Tyranny!

A wind in the world! And we have come

Together, sea by sea; in all the lands

Vision doth move at last, and Freedom stands

With brightened wings, and smiles and beckons home!