Peter Me Arthur
Not armies pursuing glory and honour and conquest,
Not armies rejoicing in war,
But armies of free common men who mock at your
baubles.
Mark them well ! They come from the ends of the earth, marching, forever
marching. I spin the world before me as a child spins a globe with
his finger, And wherever I look, from pole to pole, I see men
hurrying.
In the fields I see men hurrying for food for the armies. In the factories I see men hurrying to make munitions for
the armies. In the foundries I see men hurrying to make bigger guns
for the armies.
Wherever I look I see men hurrying. Hurrying in the shipyards, on the railroads, in the labor atories.
Hurrying in the mines for precious ores. Hurrying in the forests for the best timbers. Inventors are inventing for the armies. Organizers are organizing for the armies. The bankers, the captains of industry, the last lone
labourer
All all men hurrying, hurrying, hurrying For you have roused the world, O War God, And no man shall rest until his work is done ! Wherever I look on the great globe I see men marching, Soldiers, eager, alert, fearless soldiers. I see them gathering from the farms, from the villages,
from the towns and the cities. I see them gather on the sideroads and concession lines,
on the paved streets and in the market-places. I see them on the mountains and the plains. I see them coming by boat loads and train loads. Coming in automobiles, in carriages, in lumber waggons,
on horseback and on foot, j
�� �
