Poetry Month

Recessional
by Rudyard Kipling

God of our fathers, known of old---
  Lord of our far-flung battle line---
Beneath whose awful hand we hold
  Dominion over palm and pine---
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget---lest we forget!

The tumult and the shouting dies---
  The Captains and the Kings depart---
Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice,
  An humble and a contrite heart.
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget---lest we forget!

Far-called, our navies melt away---
  On dune and headland sinks the fire---
Lo, all our pomp of yesterday
  Is one with Nineveh and Tyre!
Judge of the Nations, spare us yet,
Lest we forget---lest we forget!

If, drunk with sight of power, we loose
  Wild tongues that have not Thee in awe---
Such boasting as the Gentiles use,
  Or lesser breeds without the law---
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget---lest we forget!

For heathen heart that puts her trust
  In reeking tube and iron shard---
All valiant dust that builds on dust,
  And guarding, calls not Thee to guard,---
For frantic boast and foolish word,
Thy mercy on Thy people, Lord!

Perhaps that vaunted Christian currently residing in the White House should read this.