Classic Poem

Eager to go. Why? Why?
When going means forsaking
Home and friends, and all that dearest seems,
Position, comfort, and farewelling
All fond ambition's dreams.
Eager to go. Why? Why?

Eager to go. Why? Why?
When eager means, perhaps,
Eager to die, eager for pain,
Eager perhaps to travel down the Western slope
Before the peak of life's full strength is gained.
Eager to go. Why? Why?

Eager to go. Why? Why?
Have all life's sweets proved bitter to the tongue?
Does hope lie slain?
Has evening's gloom attended morning hours,
And life held only shattered plans and longings vain?
Eager to go. Why? Why?

. . . . . . . . . .

Not that! Not that!
Nay, rather say that life is beauteous with roseate hues,
And life has sweetest fragrance when the ground
Is drenched with morning dews;
And yet, and yet,
Eager to go.

Eager to go. Why not?
When coming ages will proclaim them men
Who stood against the foe,
When coming ages will declaim against
The one who could but would not go.
Eager to go. Why not?

Eager to go. Why not?
When brother men are broken, bleeding,
And their wounds are for my sake,
Who would not eager be the side of suffering right to take?
Eager to go. Why not?

Eager to go. Why not?
Can we forget sad Belgium's brave vicarious grief?
Forget Louvain?
In just a few short days forget her ravished homes,
Her noble slain?
Eager to go. Why not?

Eager to go. Why not?
When mighty foes are drinking to
Of Britain's fall;
Shall we not, for dear Empire's sake, " The Day"
Hear and obey the call?
Eager to go. Why not?

Eager to go. Why not?
When we believe the path of battle
Is to-day the path to God;
When we believe the Voice that calls us
Is the voice of our Eternal Lord.
Eager to go. Why not, when God and duty call?
Yes, yes, thank God — eager to go.