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12 | In This Our World Love, strength, and courage. Courage, strength, and love, The heroes of all time are built thereof. Fire with Fire There are creeping flames in the near-by grass; There are leaping flames afar; And the wind’s black breath Is hot with death, The worst of the deaths that are! And north is fire and south is fire, And east and west the same; The sunlight chokes, The whole earth smokes, The only light is flame! But what do I care for the girdle of death With its wavering wall and spire! I draw the ring Where I am the king. And fight the fire with fire! My blaze is not as wide as the world, Nor tall for the world to see; But the flames I make For life’s sweet sake, Are between the fire and me. That fire would burn in wantonness All things that life must use; Some thing I lay In the dragon’s way And burn because I choose. The sky is black, the air is red, The earth is a flaming sea; But I’m shielded well In the seething hell, By the fire that comes from me. There is nothing on earth a man need fear, Nothing so dark or dire; Though the world is wide, You have more inside, You can fight fire with fire! The Shield Fight! said the Leader. Stand and fight! How dare you yield! T H E WOR L D | 13 What is the pain of the bitter blows, The ache and sting and the blood that flows, To a losing field! Yea, said they, you may stand and fight; We needs must yield! What is the danger and pain to you, When every blow falls fair and true On your magic shield? The magical cuirass4 over your breast, Leather and steel, Guarded like that, of course you dare To meet the storm of battle there— But we can feel! The Leader fell where he fought alone. See the lifeblood start Where one more blow has pierced too far, Through a bosom hardened with scar on scar, — The only shield, the only bar, For that great heart! To the Preacher Preach about yesterday, Preacher! The time so far away: When the hand of Deity smoke and slew, And the heathen plagued the stiff-necked Jew;5 Or when the Man of Sorrows came,6 And blessed the people who cursed his name— Preach about yesterday, Preacher! Not about to-day! Preach about to-morrow, Preacher! Beyond this world’s decay: Of the sheepfold Paradise we priced When we pinned our faith to Jesus Christ; Of those hot depths that shall receive The goats who would not so believe— Preach about to-morrow, Preacher, Not about to-day! Preach about the old sins, Preacher! And the old virtues, too: You must not steal nor take man’s life, You must not covet your neighbor’s wife,7 And woman must cling at every cost To her one virtue, or she is lost— ...

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