The New Brythonic Legacy

"This morning the British Ambassador in Berlin

Handed the German Government a final note

Stating that unless we heard from them by 11 o'clock

That they were prepared at once to withdraw their troops from Poland

A state of war would exist between us

I have to tell you that no such undertaking has been received

And that consequently this country is at war with Germany"

What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?

Only the monstrous anger of the guns

Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle

Can patter out their hasty orisons

No mockeries now for them from prayers or bells

Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs

The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells

And bugles calling for them from sad shires

What candles may be held to speed them all?

Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes

Shall shine the holy glimmers of their goodbyes

The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall

Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds

And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds

Oh! We, who have known shame, we have found release there

Where there's no ill, no grief, but sleep has mending

Naught broken save this body, lost but breath

Nothing to shake the laughing heart's long peace there

But only agony, and that has ending

And the worst friend and enemy is but Death

[Neville Chamberlain:]

"You can imagine what a bitter blow it is to me

That all my long struggle to win peace has failed

But now that we have resolved to finish it

I know that you will all play your part

With calmness and courage"