Poem: ‘To a Patriot’


Who told the writer “Socialists won’t fight because they are cowards.”


    Not that we fear to die, for why should we,

    Who face a living death from day to day.

    Fear what we know “eternal rest” to be

    A speedy end rather than slow decay?

    No, what we fear is that we should be brought

    To suffer wounds, disease and lingering pain

    In aiding those of brute-like cunning wrought,

    Who maim the body, crush and starve the brain.

    Maybe the time is nearer than we know

    When we the disinherited, the spurned,

    Shall face our masters in the last great fight.

    Shall wade through waste and desolating woe

    Toward the splendour of a death well earned

    If only life be won in death’s despite.


F. J. Webb

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