The Two Armies

I DREAMT, when I had talked with you, God re-arranged the world in two, And marshalled it in two great lines, Bohemians and Philistines;

And well I knew, O well I knew, Which host my heart would lead me to.

All honour to the Philistines, Whose sober gods, in solid shrines, Are Duty and Obedience, Self-sacrifice and Common-sense.

With tender and untortured hearts, They go their ways and play their parts. I honour them, so let it be; But O, their ways are not for me.

For I must go to join that throng, So often ruthless, stained, and wrong, Who madly plunge and stray and strive, But, O my God, they are alive!

Life stabs them deep with Love and Hate, And from their longings they create; And even their blackest, deepest wrongs Must blossom into little songs.