Before Action
By all the glories of the day
And the cool evening's benison,
By that last sunset touch that lay
Upon the hills where day was done,
By beauty lavishly outpoured
And blessings carelessly received,
By all the days that I have lived
Make me a solider, Lord.
By all of man's hopes and fears,
And all the wonders poets sing,
The laughter of unclouded years,
And every sad and lovely thing;
By the romantic ages stored
With high endeavor that was his,
By all his mad catastrophes
Make me a man, O Lord.
I, that on my familiar hill
Saw with uncomprehending eyes
A hundred of Thy sunsets spill
Their fresh and sanguine sacrifice,
Ere the sun swings his noonday sword
Must say goodbye to all of this;--
By all delights that I shall miss,
Help me to die, O Lord.
Commentary
If there be perfection in war poetry, Hodgson’s “Before Action” is it. It is, first of all, beautiful poetry - the rhythms of the soldier’s orisons are perfectly captured. The second verse introduces the irony - subtly - all the sad and lovely things that the romantic ages had to say about battle, valour, glory and the ideals of high endeavour : the finale of Tennyson’s “Maud” is an excellent example. The third verse is pure despair - the last line drops like a bombshell, but not before beguiling one with the perfect beauty of “A hundred of Thy sunsets spill/Their fresh and sanguine sacrifice”. All in all, a real gem.
— Anustup