So I sit and write and ponder, while the house
is deaf and dumb,
Seeing visions "over yonder" of the war I know must come. In the corner — not a vision — but a sign for coming days Stand a box of ammunition and a rifle in green baize. And in this, the living present, let the word go through the land, Every tradesman, clerk and peasant should have these two things at hand.
No — no ranting song is needed, and no meeting, flag or fuss — In the future, still unheeded, shall the spirit come to us! Without feathers, drum or riot on the day that is to be, We shall march down, very quiet, to our stations by the sea. While the bitter parties stifle every voice that warns of war, Every man should own a rifle and have cartridges in store!
Seeing visions "over yonder" of the war I know must come. In the corner — not a vision — but a sign for coming days Stand a box of ammunition and a rifle in green baize. And in this, the living present, let the word go through the land, Every tradesman, clerk and peasant should have these two things at hand.
No — no ranting song is needed, and no meeting, flag or fuss — In the future, still unheeded, shall the spirit come to us! Without feathers, drum or riot on the day that is to be, We shall march down, very quiet, to our stations by the sea. While the bitter parties stifle every voice that warns of war, Every man should own a rifle and have cartridges in store!
Henry Lawson, 1907.
Lawson was an Australian poet.
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