  Who are the Empire-builders? They Whose desperate arrogance demands A self-reflecting power to sway A hundred little selfless lands? To these and to their soulless lust, Let fall Thy thunders on us now And strike us equal to the dust. Before the stars in heaven were made Our great Commander led us forth; And now the embattled lines are laid To East, to West, to South, to North; According as of old He planned We take our station in the field, Nor dare to dream we understand The splendour of the swords we wield. We know not what the Soul intends That lives and moves behind our deeds; We wheel and march to glorious ends Beyond the common soldier's needs: And some are raised to high rewards, And some by regiments are hurled To die upon the opposing swords And sleep—forgotten by the world. And not where navies churn the foam, Nor called to fields of fierce emprize, In many a country cottage-home The Empire-builder lives and dies: Or through the roaring streets he goes A lean and weary City slave, The conqueror of a thousand foes Who walks, unheeded, to his grave. Leaders unknown of hopes forlorn Go past us in the daily mart, With many a shadowy crown of thorn And many a kingly broken heart: Though England's banner overhead Ever the secret signal flew, We only see its Cross is red As children see the skies are blue. For all are Empire-builders here, Whose hearts are true to heaven and home And, year by slow revolving year, Fulfil the duties as they come; So simple seems the task, and yet Many for this are crucified; Ay, and their brother-men forget The simple wounds in palm and side. But he that to his home is true, Where'er the tides of power may flow, Has built a kingdom great and new Which Time nor Fate shall overthrow These are the Empire-builders, these Annex where none shall say them nay Beyond the world's uncharted seas Realms that can never pass away. |
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