The Watchword

The Watchword
John Kendrick Bangs
232

Give of your mass of gold,
Send to the prostrate West
Some of that wealth untold
Digged from her virgin breast
Give!

Give of your meager store,
Send from your cupboard bare
Out to the wasted shore,
If but a pittance share
Give!

Give of your brother heart
Quick of its golden glow
Let the love cargo start
Out to the field of woe
Give!

Give of your health and strength,
Give of your helping hand,
Over its breadth and length
Vieing with all the land
Give!

Give of the healing light
Quick to the souls that grope;
Send to the hearts affright
Messages filled with Hope
-John Kendrick Bangs