Just because we fight without rancour and without selfish objects, seeking nothing for ourselves but what we shall wish to share with all free peoples, we shall, I feel confident, conduct our operations as belligerents without passion and ourselves observe with proud punctilio the principles of right and of fair play we profess to be fighting for.... We enter this war only where we are clearly forced into it because there are no other means of defending our rights. It will be all the easier for us to conduct ourselves as belligerents in a high spirit of right and fairness because we act without animus, not in enmity toward a people or with the desire to bring any injury or disadvantage upon them, but only in armed opposition to an irresponsible Government which has thrown aside all considerations of humanity and of right and is running amuck.... There are, it may be, many months of fiery trial and sacrifice ahead of us. It is a fearful thing to lead this great, peaceful people into war, into the most terrible and disastrous of all wars, civilization itself seeming to be in the balance. But right is more precious than peace, and we shall fight for the things which we have always carried nearest to our hearts--for democracy, for the right of those who submit to authority to have a voice in their own governments, for the rights and liberties of small nations, for a universal dominion of right by such a concert of free peoples as shall bring peace and safety to all nations and make the world itself at last free. To such a task we can dedicate our lives and our fortunes, everything that we are and everything that we have, with the pride of those who know that the day has come when America is privileged to spend her blood and her might for the principles that gave her birth and happiness and the peace which she has treasured. God helping her, she can do no other. FROM "VIMY RIDGE" (_April, 1917_) . . . . . . . . . . England, our mother, we, thy sons, are young; Our exultation this day cannot be Bounded as thine: but thou wilt pardon us, Thou wilt forgive us if we cry, "Now see! See now, our mother, these are they that clung Once to thy breasts, and are they not well sung?" . . . . . . . . . . Aye, not since France herself first stood at bay, To conquer or to die on Marne's green banks, Driving at last across its crimsoned flood The flower of Germany in shattered ranks, Has there been crowded in a single day More breathless glory for heroic lay. England, our mother, once our boasting hear! And in thy streets let flags and banners fly! To drums and bugles let the people march While Vimy Ridge is shouted to the sky! . . . . . . . . . .