Ruskin logs, 1914-1918 / Alfred Ruskin - Page 131
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[Page 131]
To a Finish
Now blow the Trumpets; All that went before
Was but a skirmish in the war's outer skirts
We have not heard the cannon's loudest roar;
The previous spurts of fire were nothing more
Than trials, as of some young bird that flirts
A feather ere it soar to loftier flight
Now are the Armies mustered knee to knee
And Heaven and Hell and all Eternity
Shall see a fight.
Stand firm, Stout Teuton your's must be the shocks
You asked for battle and the thing is here!
Be steadfast as the grey of Granite Rock
If this tremendous doom you hope to mock
For now, at last has come the trial year.
The wide earth shakes in wonder-dazzled night;
And Potsdam, Frankfort [Frankfurt] and the Northern main
Through floods of death and bitter storm's of pain
Shall see a fight.
The Russian points flash in the frosty Sun,
A hundred Leagues of valiant, charging hate;
The Western Front flames like a Single Gun,
As large as France and loaded black with fate;
The gathered ranks of Britain's new made might.
The hour has struck! The omens are all fair.
Prince, duke and Kaiser, if they will and dare,
May see a fight.