Broke to every known mischance, lifted over all By the light sane joy of life, the buckler of the Gaul, Furious in luxury, merciless in toil, Terrible with strength that draws from her tireless soil, Strictest judge of her own worth, gentlest of men's mind, First to follow truth and last to leave old truths behind— France beloved of every soul that loves its fellow-kind.

Ere our birth (rememberest thou?) side

by side we lay

Fretting in the womb of Rome to begin

the fray.

Ere men knew our tongues apart, our one

taste was known—

Each must mould the other's fate as he

wrought his own.

To this end we stirred mankind till all

earth was ours,

Till our world-end strifes began wayside

thrones and powers,

Puppets that we made or broke to bar

the other's path—

Necessary, outpost folk, hirelings of our

wrath.

To this end we stormed the seas, tack for

tack, and burst

Through the doorways of new worlds,

doubtful which was first.

Hand on hilt (rememberest thou?), ready

for the blow.

Sure whatever else we met we should

meet our foe.

Spurred or baulked at ev'ry stride by the

other's strength,

So we rode the ages down and every ocean's

length;

Where did you refrain from us or we

refrain from you?

Ask the wave that has not watched war

between us two.

Others held us for a while, but with

weaker charms,

These we quitted at the call for each

other's arms.

Eager toward the known delight, equally

we strove,

Each the other's mystery, terror, need,

and love.

To each other's open court with our

proofs we came,

Where could we find honour else or men

to test the claim?

From each other's throat we wrenched

valour's last reward,

That extorted word of praise gasped

'twixt lunge and guard.

In each other's cup we poured mingled

blood and tears,

Brutal joys, unmeasured hopes,

intolerable fears,

All that soiled or salted life for a thousand

years.

Proved beyond the need of proof, matched

in every clime,

O companion, we have lived greatly

through all time:

Yoked in knowledge and remorse now we

come to rest,

Laughing at old villainies that time has

turned to jest,

Pardoning old necessity no pardon can

efface—

That undying sin we shared in Rouen

market-place.

Now we watch the new years shape,

wondering if they hold

Fiercer lighting in their hearts than we

launched of old.

Now we hear new voices rise, question,

boast or gird,

As we raged (rememberest thou?) when

our crowds were stirred.

Now we count new keels afloat, and new

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