Soldiers of the Light
“Why of War, O thou that lovest ratherPeace of roses in a rain-sweet garden,Peace of moonlit silver-heaving waters,All the lovely looks of little children?What strange mandateBids thee sing of War, who lovest these things?
“How of War, O faint-heart, thou that grievestOver every gentle creature wounded,All soft eyes of pain and puzzled sorrow,All the lithe limbs marred, the wild wings broken?What black magicMakes thee brood on War, who dreadest these things?
“Is it but the haunting of the bugles,Floating memories of the war-time buglesBlowing over those far fields of childhood,Pleasant in the foolish ear of childhood,When the sword-hiltSeemed but made to shine and hold a jewel?”
Then the inward Voice that gave the mandate,--Bade me sing of battle,--bade me answer:Well I know the symbol of the sword-hilt,Know the Cross of sacrifice and service;See the heart’s-bloodBurning where the child beheld the jewel.
I have hated with the perfect hatredAll the work of Hell in all the ages;Hated all the hate and all the horror;Yet the Vision of the Face of faces,God-in-Manhood,Shines through Hell, and I have seen the Vision.
In all battles, under many banners,Soldiers of the Light have fought, have fallen,Souls elect and armoured all with honour,Following an unconquerable Captain;Fighting, falling,For the hope, the dream, the splendid secret!
In this rubric, lo, the Past is lettered:Strike the red words out, we strike the glory.Leave the sacred colour on the pages,Pages of the Past that teach the Future.On that scriptureYet shall young souls take the oath of service.
God end War! but when brute War is ended,Yet there shall be many a noble soldier,Many a noble battle worth the winning,Many a hopeless battle worth the losing.Life is battle,Life is battle, even to the sunset.
Soldiers of the Light shall strive forever,In the wards of pain, the ways of labour,In the stony deserts of the city,In the hives where greed has housed the helpless;Patient, valiant,Fighting with the powers of death and darkness.
Make us mingle in that heavenly warfare;Call us through the throats of all brave buglesBlown on fields foregone by lips forgotten;Nerve us with the courage of lost comrades,Gird us, lead us,Thou, O Prince of Peace and God of Battles!
Words in this poem
- moonlit a.
- Illumined by the moon.
- lithe v. i.
- To listen or listen to; to hearken to. P. Plowman. [Icel Listen.]
- childhood n.
- The state of being a child; the time in which persons are children; the condition or time from infancy to puberty. [AS. cildhad; cild child + -had. See Child, and hood.]
- bade
- A form of the pat tense of Bid.
- armoured a.
- Clad with armor.
- honour n.
- Esteem due or paid to worth; high estimation; respect; consideration; reverence; veneration; manifestation of respect or reverence. [OE. honor, honour, onour, onur, OF. honor, onor, honur, onur, honour, onour, F. honneur, fr. L. honor, honos.]
- unconquerable a.
- Not conquerable; indomitable.
- lettered a.
- Literate; educated; versed in literature.
- shall v. i.
- To owe; to be under obligation for. [OE. shal, schal, imp. sholde, scholde, AS. scal, sceal, I am obliged, imp. scolde, sceolde, inf. sculan; akin to OS. skulan, pres. skal, imp. skolda, D. zullen,]
- greed n.
- An eager desire or longing; greediness; as, a greed of gain. [Akin to Goth. grdus hunger, Icel. graedhr. sq. root34. See Greedy.]
- valiant a.
- Vigorous in body; strong; powerful; as, a valiant fencer. [OE. valiant, F. vaillant, OF. vaillant, valant, originally p. pr. of OF. & F. valoir to be worth, L. valere to be strong. See Wield, and cf. Avail, Convalesce, ]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Soldiers of the Light is in the public domain. This text is taken from A chant of love for England, and other poems, Project Gutenberg ebook #71425; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Helen Gray Cone, Soldiers of the Light, in A Chant of Love for England, and Other Poems (1915), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #71425, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/cone-chant-for-england/soldiers-of-the-light.html, id L22044.
Form and metre
Soldiers of the Light is 60 lines in 10 stanzas of 6 lines each. The metre is trochaic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 92%).
See other poems in trochaic pentameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 3 AABB-- buglesA · buglesA · childhoodB · childhoodB · hilt · jewel
- 5 A---A- hatredA · ages · horror · faces · manhoodA · vision
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against trochaic pentameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| “Why of War, O thou that lovest rather | 10 | ········/˘ |
| Peace of roses in a rain-sweet garden, | 10 | ··/˘····/˘ |
| Peace of moonlit silver-heaving waters, | 10 | ··/·/˘/˘/˘ |
| All the lovely looks of little children? | 10 | ··/˘··/˘/˘ |
| What strange mandate | 4 | ··/· |
| Bids thee sing of War, who lovest these things? | 10 | ·········· |
| “How of War, O faint-heart, thou that grievest | 10 | ········/˘ |
| Over every gentle creature wounded, | 11 | ··/˘˘/˘/˘/˘ |
| All soft eyes of pain and puzzled sorrow, | 10 | ······/˘/˘ |
| All the lithe limbs marred, the wild wings broken? | 10 | ········/˘ |
| What black magic | 4 | ··/˘ |
| Makes thee brood on War, who dreadest these things? | 10 | ······/˘·· |
| “Is it but the haunting of the bugles, | 10 | ····/˘··/˘ |
| Floating memories of the war-time bugles | 11 | /˘/˘˘····/˘ |
| Blowing over those far fields of childhood, | 10 | /˘······/· |
| Pleasant in the foolish ear of childhood, | 10 | /˘··/˘··/· |
| When the sword-hilt | 4 | ···· |
| Seemed but made to shine and hold a jewel?” | 10 | ········/˘ |
| Then the inward Voice that gave the mandate,-- | 10 | ··/˘····/· |
| Bade me sing of battle,--bade me answer: | 10 | ····/˘··/˘ |
| Well I know the symbol of the sword-hilt, | 10 | ····/˘···· |
| Know the Cross of sacrifice and service; | 10 | ····/˘··/˘ |
| See the heart’s-blood | 4 | ···· |
| Burning where the child beheld the jewel. | 10 | /˘···˘/·/˘ |
| I have hated with the perfect hatred | 10 | ··/˘··/·/˘ |
| All the work of Hell in all the ages; | 10 | ········/˘ |
| Hated all the hate and all the horror; | 10 | /˘······/˘ |
| Yet the Vision of the Face of faces, | 10 | ··/˘····/˘ |
| God-in-Manhood, | 4 | ··/· |
| Shines through Hell, and I have seen the Vision. | 10 | ········/˘ |
| In all battles, under many banners, | 10 | ··/˘··/˘/˘ |
| Soldiers of the Light have fought, have fallen, | 10 | /˘······/˘ |
| Souls elect and armoured all with honour, | 10 | ·˘/·/˘··/˘ |
| Following an unconquerable Captain; | 11 | /˘˘·˘/˘˘˘/˘ |
| Fighting, falling, | 4 | /˘/˘ |
| For the hope, the dream, the splendid secret! | 10 | ······/˘/˘ |
| In this rubric, lo, the Past is lettered: | 10 | ··/˘····/˘ |
| Strike the red words out, we strike the glory. | 10 | ········/˘ |
| Leave the sacred colour on the pages, | 10 | ··/˘/˘··/˘ |
| Pages of the Past that teach the Future. | 10 | /˘······/˘ |
| On that scripture | 4 | ··/˘ |
| Yet shall young souls take the oath of service. | 10 | ········/˘ |
| God end War! but when brute War is ended, | 10 | ········/˘ |
| Yet there shall be many a noble soldier, | 11 | ····/˘·/˘/˘ |
| Many a noble battle worth the winning, | 11 | /˘·/˘/˘··/˘ |
| Many a hopeless battle worth the losing. | 11 | /˘·/˘/˘··/˘ |
| Life is battle, | 4 | ··/˘ |
| Life is battle, even to the sunset. | 10 | ··/˘/˘··/· |
| Soldiers of the Light shall strive forever, | 10 | /˘·····˘/˘ |
| In the wards of pain, the ways of labour, | 10 | ········/· |
| In the stony deserts of the city, | 10 | ··/˘/˘··/˘ |
| In the hives where greed has housed the helpless; | 10 | ········/˘ |
| Patient, valiant, | 4 | /˘/˘ |
| Fighting with the powers of death and darkness. | 11 | /˘··/˘···/˘ |
| Make us mingle in that heavenly warfare; | 10 | ··/˘··/˘/· |
| Call us through the throats of all brave bugles | 10 | ········/˘ |
| Blown on fields foregone by lips forgotten; | 10 | ···//··˘/˘ |
| Nerve us with the courage of lost comrades, | 10 | ····/˘··/· |
| Gird us, lead us, | 4 | ···· |
| Thou, O Prince of Peace and God of Battles! | 10 | ········/˘ |
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