Big Steamers

1914-1918

"OH, where are you going to, all you Big Steamers,

With England's own coal, up and down the salt seas?"

"We are going to fetch you your bread and your butter,

Your beef, pork, and mutton, eggs, apples, and cheese."

"And where will you fetch it from, all you Big Steamers,

And where shall I write you when you are away?"

"We fetch it from Melbourne, Quebec, and Vancouver--

Address us at Hobart, Hong-Kong, and Bombay."

"But if anything happened to all you Big Steamers,

And suppose you were wrecked up and down the salt sea?"

"Then you'd have no coffee or bacon for breakfast,

And you'd have no muffins or toast for your tea."

"Then I'll pray for fine weather for all you Big Steamers,

For little blue billows and breezes so soft."

"Oh, billows and breezes don't bother Big Steamers,

For we're iron below and steel-rigging aloft."

"Then I'll build a new lighthouse for all you Big Steamers,

With plenty wise pilots to pilot you through."

"Oh, the Channel's as bright as a ball-room already,

And pilots are thicker than pilchards at Looe."

"Then what can I do for you, all you Big Steamers,

Oh, what can I do for your comfort and good?"

"Send out your big warships to watch your big waters,

That no one may stop us from bringing your food."

"For the bread that you eat and the biscuits you nibble,

The sweets that you suck and the joints that you carve,

They are brought to you daily by all us Big Steamers--

And if any one hinders our coming you'll starve!"

The Secret of the Machines

Modern Machinery

WE were taken from the ore-bed and the mine,

We were melted in the furnace and the pit--

We were cast and wrought and hammered to design,

We were cut and filed and tooled and gauged to fit.

Some water, coal, and oil is all we ask,

And a thousandth of an inch to give us play;

And now, if you will set us to our task,

We will serve you four and twenty hours a day!

We can pull and haul and push and lift and drive,

We can print and plough and weave and heat and light,

We can run and race and swim and fly and dive,

We can see and hear and count and read and write!

Would you call a friend from half across the world?

If you'll let us have his name and town and state,

You shall see and hear your cracking question hurled

Across the arch of heaven while you wait.

Has he answered? Does he need you at his side?

You can start this very evening if you choose,

And take the Western Ocean in the stride

Of seventy thousand horses and some screws!

The boat-express is waiting your command!

You will find the Mauretania at the quay,

Till her captain turns the lever 'neath his hand,

And the monstrous nine-decked city goes to sea.

Do you wish to make the moutains bare their head

And lay their new-cut forests at your feet?

Do you want to turn a river in its bed,

Or plant a barren wilderness with wheat?

Shall we pipe aloft and bring you water down,

From the never-failing cistern of the snows,

To work the mills and tramways in your town,

And irrigate your orchards as it flows?

It is easy! Give us dynamite and drills!

Watch the iron-shouldered rocks lie down and quake,

As the thirsty desert-level floods and fills,

And the valley we have dammed becomes a lake.

But, remember, please, the Law by which we live,

We are not built to comprehend a lie,

We can neither love nor pity nor forgive.

If you make a slip in handling us you die!

We are greater than the Peoples or the Kings--

Be humble, as you crawl beneath our rods!--

Our touch can alter all created things,

We are everything on earth--except The Gods!

Though our smoke may hide the Heavens from your eyes;

It will vanish and the stars will shine again,

Because, for all our power and weight and size,

We are nothing more than children of your brain!

The Bells and Queen Victoria

1911

"Gay go up and gay go down

To ring the Bells of London Town."

When London Town's asleep in bed

You'll hear the Bells ring overhead.

In excelsis gloria!

Ringing for Victoria,

Ringing for their mighty mistress--ten years dead!

The Bells:

HERE is more gain than Gloriana guessed--

Than Gloriana guessed or Indies bring--

Than golden Indies bring. A Queen confessed--

A queen confessed that crowned her people King.

Her people King, and crowned all Kings above,

Above all Kings have crowned their Queen their love--

Have crowned their love their Queen, their Queen their love!

Denying her, we do ourselves deny,

Disowning her are we ourselves disowned.

Mirror was she of our fidelity,

And handmaid of our destiny enthroned;

The very marrow of Youth's dream, and still

Yoke-mate of wisest Age that worked her will!

Our fathers had declared to us her praise--

Her praise the years had proven past all speech.

And past all speech our loyal hearts always,

Always our hearts lay open, each to each--

Therefore men gave the treasure of their blood

To this one woman--for she understood!

Four o' the clock! Now all the world is still,

Oh, London Bells, to all the world declare

The Secret of the Empire--read who will!

The Glory of the People--touch who dare!

The Bells:

Power that has reached itself all kingly powers,

St. Margaret's: By love o'erpowered--

St. Martin's: By love o'erpowered--

St Clement Danes: By love o'erpowered,

                    The greater power confers!

The Bells:

Bow Bells: And she was ours--

St Paul's: And she was ours--

Westminster: And she was ours,

                    As we, even we were hers!

The Bells:

As we were hers!

The Glory of the Garden

OUR England is a garden that is full of stately views,

Of borders, beds and shrubberies and lawns and avenues,

With statues on the terraces and peacocks strutting by;

But the Glory of the Garden lies in more than meets the eye.

For where the thick laurels grow, along the thin red wall,

You will find the tool- and potting-sheds which are the heart of all;

The cold-frames and the hot-houses, the dungpits and the tanks,

The rollers, carts and drain-pipes, with the barrows and the planks.

And there you'll see the gardners, the men and 'prentice boys

Told off to do as they are bid and to it without noise;

For, except when seeds are planted and we shout to scare the birds,

The Glory of the Garden it abideth not in words.

And some can pot begonias and some can bud a rose,

And some are hardly fit to trust with anything that grows;

But they can roll and trim the lawns and sift the sand and loam,

For the Glory of the Garden occupieth all who come.

Our England is a garden, and such gardens are not made

By singing:--"Oh, how beautiful!" and sitting in the shade,

While better men than we go out and start their working lives

At grubbing weeds from gravel-paths with broken dinner-knives.

There's not a pair of legs so thin, there's not a head so thick,

There's not a hand so weak and white, nor yet a heart so sick,

But it can find some needful job that's crying to be done,

For the Glory of the Garden glorifieth every one.

Then seek your job with thankfulness and work till further orders,

It it's only netting strawberries or killing slugs on borders;

And when your back stops aching and your hands begin to harden,

You will find yourself a partner in the Glory of the Garden.

Oh, Adam was a gardener, and God who made him sees

That half a proper gardener's work is done upon his knees,

So when your work is finished, you can wash your hands and pray

For the Glory of the Garden, that it may not pass away!

For the Glory of the Garden, that it may not pass away!

      B A C K