Transcriber's Note: Every effort has been made to replicate this text as faithfully as possible. Italic text has been marked with _underscores_. RADA BY THE SAME AUTHOR TALES OF THE MERMAID TAVERN DRAKE THE FOREST OF WILD THYME FORTY SINGING SEAMEN THE ENCHANTED ISLAND THE WINE PRESS [Illustration: THE BAYONETS] RADA A BELGIAN CHRISTMAS EVE BY ALFRED NOYES WITH FOUR ILLUSTRATIONS AFTER GOYA METHUEN & CO. LTD. 36 ESSEX STREET W.C. LONDON _First Published in 1915_ DEDICATION Thou whose deep ways are in the sea, Whose footsteps are not known, To-night a world that turned from Thee Is waiting--at Thy Throne. The towering Babels that we raised Where scoffing sophists brawl, The little Antichrists we praised-- The night is on them all. The fool hath said ... The fool hath said ... And we, who deemed him wise, We, who believed that Thou wast dead, How should we seek Thine eyes? How should we seek to Thee for power, Who scorned Thee yesterday? How should we kneel in this dread hour? Lord, teach us how to pray. Grant us the single heart once more That mocks no sacred thing, The Sword of Truth our fathers wore When Thou wast Lord and King. Let darkness unto darkness tell Our deep unspoken prayer; For, while our souls in darkness dwell, We know that Thou art there. LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS THE BAYONETS _Frontispiece_ FACING PAGE OVER THE JAWS OF THE CROWD 16 THE OLD DANCE OF CHARLATANS AND BEASTS 22 THE VAMPIRE 56 _Reproduced from etchings by Goya_ PRELUDE Under which banner? It was night Beyond all nights that ever were. The Cross was broken. Blood-stained Might Moved like a tiger from its lair, And all that heaven had died to quell Awoke, and mingled earth with hell. For Europe, if it held a creed, Held it thro' custom, not thro' faith. Chaos returned in dream and deed, Right was a legend--Love, a wraith; And That from which the world began Was less than even the best in man. God in the image of a snake Dethroned that dream, too fond, too blind, The man-shaped God whose heart could break, Live, die and triumph with mankind; A Super-snake, a Juggernaut, Dethroned the Highest of human thought. Choose, England! For the eternal foe Within thee, as without, grew strong, By many a super-subtle blow Blurring the lines of right and wrong In Art and Thought, till nought seemed true But that soul-slaughtering cry of _New!_