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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=341491" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>To Arms!</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">World! to arms!<br>Do you shrink?<br>What! shrink when the hoofs of the Cossack are crushing<br>The bosom of mother, the tonsure of priest,<br>And the youth of a nation, pain-maddened, is rushing<br>On visible doom, as to tourney or feast?<br>When the savagest hell-hounds that ever existed<br>Are hunting the tender and brave of our race,<br>And the lash of the insolent Tartar is twisted<br>With mock of defiance, and cracked in your face-<br>Do you shrink?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">World! to arms!<br>Do you shrink, gallant France, when the blood of a nation,<br>Ne'er stinted for you, for itself flows in vain?<br>Aroused by the might of a grand inspiration,<br>Avenge with your war-clang the souls of the slain.<br>If you shrink, may you never know ending or respite<br>To strife internecine and factional hate,<br>Except when the hand of liberticide despot<br>Imposes on all one opprobrious fate!<br>France! to arms!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Do you shrink?<br>You! politic Austria! now that you only,<br>If feebly you hesitate, hasten your doom-<br>Have you yet not discovered that, selfish and lonely,<br>An Empire but marches blindfold to the tomb?<br>Let a penitent sword in sublime vindication<br>Of Freedom its manifold mischiefs undo:<br>If you shrink, may the multiplied wrongs of each nation<br>You ever have outraged be hurled back on you!<br>Do you shrink?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">World! to arms!<br>O my beautiful Italy! nought of misgiving<br>Doth trouble the summons that touches your pride;<br>The graves of your slaughtered are fresh, but your living<br>Are throbbing to conquer, or sleep at their side.<br>By your maidens equipped, in whose beauty exult you,<br>Your sons must make ready with pennon and sheen<br>To go straight. If you shrink-but I will not insult you,<br>Who, often unfortunate, never were mean.<br>Then, to arms!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">World! to arms!<br>Do you shrink?<br>Shrink! England! what! shrink when intoxicate Tartar,<br>Deriding your wrath, rides in blood to the waist?<br>When the flesh of the virgin, the bones of the martyr,<br>The breast of the matron, are bared and defaced?<br>Do you deem diplomatic frivolities ample<br>To save you your title of moral and just,<br>When a horde of ensanguined barbarians trample<br>Mankind and remonstrance alike in the dust?<br>England shrink?<br>No! to arms!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">All! to arms!<br>Will you wait till behind the impassable rampart<br>Of winter they laugh at your impotent rage,<br>And your war-nostrils frozen, your ironclads hampered,<br>Destruction-then ``Order''-shall swoop on the stage?<br>Yes! the spring will come back, and unbar you the ocean,<br>But will not the sinews relax of the slain:<br>Swift! to arms! Set the vengeance-charged tumbrils in motion,<br>As dread as God's thunder, as blest as His rain!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Alfred+Austin">Alfred Austin</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=341491" data-title="To Arms! de Alfred Austin" data-description="World! to arms!
Do you shrink?
What! shrink when the hoofs of the Cossack are crushing
The bosom of mother, the tonsure of priest,
And the youth of a nation, pain-maddened, is rushing
On visible doom, as to tourney or feast?
When the savagest hell..."></div>
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