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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=392077" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Call</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=392077" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Hark! 'tis the rush of the horses,<br>The crash of the galloping gun!<br>The stars are out of their courses;<br>The hour of Doom has begun.<br>Leap from thy scabbard, O sword!<br>Leap! 'Tis the Day of the Lord!<br>Prate not of peace any longer,<br>Laughter and idlesse and ease!<br>Up, every man that is stronger!<br>Leave but the priest on his knees!<br>Quick, every hand to the hilt!<br>Who striketh not—his the guilt!<br>Call not each man on his brother!<br>Cry not to Heaven to save!<br>Thou art the man—not another—<br>Thou, to off glove and out glaive!<br>Fight, ye who ne'er fought before!<br>Fight, ye old fighting-men more!</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Francis+William+Bourdillon">Francis William Bourdillon</a></strong></div>

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