Welsh Journals

LO- These are they who turned and went, Men of Dyfed, men of Gwent, From Powys and from Gwynedd wild To stand where trampling hosts defiled The fields of Flanders seared with pain And eastward where blue waters lie About the storied Thracian plain, Where the Ægean, old and wise, Awoke to listen in surprise, And marvelled at their Odyssey. They saw strange lands where rivers flow From crystal founts of Asian snow: And heard beneath the burning sky The lean, grey vultures scream and fly Along by sounding Sinai. They learnt the lore of wandering seas And met gravi death in stark disguise Athwart great waters; and at ease Passed with proud lustre in their eyes. FOR REMEMBRANCE. II. And names arose they knew not whence nor why Save that they blazed in the prophetic sky In presage of titanic days to be- That would wrest honour from Thermopylae And bid the moon of Marathon to wane Like Mons, Le Cateau, Marne and stubborn Aisne And Ypres, city that should know no truce, And Bazentin and Festubert and Loos, Gheluvelt, Gouzeaucourt and Neuve Chapelle, Dim names they had not seen; they could not tell What Pilkem meant, what torrent blood would spill In Bourlon Wood and Mametz and Deville. Nor in what widerness and desert sands Far Gaza lay; nor in what outflung lands When strength had ebbed and all but faith had gone Christian would wrestle with Apollyon. But marvelling-they took the sword that sang Of liberty and all the mountains rang With marching feet that went where loud and dire In whirling dust and thundrous battle-smoke The raging tides of Armageddon broke In molten floods of fire. III. And, in their sacrifice, the torrent seas Of human bitterness that roar and rise With every wind of hate shall find release From all their turmoil: and our opened eyes May vision here an earthly Paradise Agleam on adamantine hills of peace, Where art shall flourish, and the nations cease From harridan lusts of war and wild emprise. Where Freedom needs no spear or sentinel To guard the land wherein her vassals sing, Where cities which have known no citadel Build of rare wisdom their encincturing Where steadfast Honour rings her golden bell Amid a risen world's glad burgeoning. A. G. PRYS-JONES.