RECESSIONAL

In the London Times at the end of the Queen's Jubilee, 1897

G

OD of our fathers, known of old,

Lord of our far-flung battle-line,
Beneath whose awful hand we hold

Dominion over palm and pine —
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget-lest we forget!

The tumult and the shouting dies;

The captains and the kings depart:
Still stands thine ancient sacrifice,

An humble and a contrite heart.
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget-lest we forget!

Far-called, our navies melt away;

On dune and headland sinks the fire:

Lo, all our pomp of yesterday

Is one with Nineveh and Tyre!
Judge of the nations, spare us yet,
Lest we forget - lest we forget!

If, drunk with sight of power, we loose

Wild tongues that have not thee in awe,—

Such boasting as the Gentiles use,

Or lesser breeds without the Law,-
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget-lest we forget!

For heathen heart that puts her trust
In reeking tube and iron shard,-
All valiant dust that builds on dust,

And guarding, calls not thee to guard,
For frantic boast and foolish word,
Thy mercy on thy people, Lord!

XXVIII-1028

Amen.

RUDYARD KIPLING.

THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER

SAY, can you see by the dawn's early light

What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleam

ing?

Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous fight, O'er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming! And the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air,

Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there:

O say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?

On that shore dimly seen through the mists of the deep,
Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes,
What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep,
As it fitfully blows, now conceals, now discloses ?
Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam,
Its full glory reflected now shines on the stream:
'Tis the star-spangled banner; oh, long may it wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

And where is that band who so vauntingly swore

That the havoc of war and the battle's confusion

A home and a country should leave us no more?

Their blood has washed out their foul footsteps' pollution. No refuge could save the hireling and slave

From the terror of flight, or the gloom of the grave;
And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.

Oh, thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand

Between their loved homes and the war's desolation!
Blest with victory and peace, may the heaven-rescued land
Praise the power that hath made and preserved us a nation.
Then conquer we must, for our cause it is just;

And this be our motto,-"In God is our trust:
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.

FRANCIS SCOTT KEY.

THE MARSEILLAISE.

Roguet de Lisle singing his famous song before the Mayor of Strasburg. Photogravure from a painting by Pils.