A Poem About Sheffield At War

[Pilon]

Found this a while back, can't remember where... hopefully not on this forum!

 

 

In Peace or War.

 

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THWART horizons time scarred buildings loom,

And thro' great chimneys blood-red fires disgorge,

The pall that writ our Sheffield's lasting doom,

To skies for ever grey or hill and forge.

 

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And thro' those gates of unrest workers creep,

To daily face recurrent heavy toil,

Till on their brows Industry's sweat shall seep.

Amid the heat, the muck and racking moil.

 

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For there in crackling furnaces that glow,

They shovel disembowelled earth - the coal,

To melt the steel that which shall molten flow,

To end in some machine that lacks a soul.

 

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The steel that's used in peace or ghastly strife,

To make a pin - or in some great gun that roars -

But that is Sheffield's task, its very life,

And keeps the march of hunger from our doors.

 

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'Tis not for us to question rights or wrongs,

Our hope's to hold the world to Sheffield steel,

And in our works shall clang exultant songs,

To those who love her - and her glory feel.

 

By L. Edwin Fairest