Our Sacred Cause
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       Two thousand years have almost gone
              Since mental pain and toil the world began,
              Free will - perverted gift - by which alone
              Each man may find his place within the sun;
              When needs of mankind lay within his grasp,
              His toils and burdens ready to discard,
              When science did but all his troubles clasp
              And evolution promised itís reward.
              Affliction of the mind had not been sought to cure,
             When free expression of the soul had not been given right,
              Diversion of opinion, however much obscure
              Could never free humanity from blight.
              So now we see the monster looming forth
             With lust to conquer all or to repel,
              His purpose, to destroy itís cherished worth,
              Or Satanís manifestations to excel.
              This Hitler who has made the canker spread
              Among deluded minds that easily absorb
              The joy of strength with useless venom fed,
              To poison peoples whom they cannot curb.
              From out this wilderness a voice is clearly heard,
             With courage and conviction in itís tone,
             Compels the world hearken to the truthful word,
             As it were listening to itís very own.
             Let all congruent spirits merge in faith as one,
             That righteous cause with righteousness attain,
             Since Churchillís policy cannot be outshone,
             The sacrifice we make, shall not be in vain.
             Let no success defeat success with loud applause,
             Nor sorrow let your resolution shake,
             For time brings power to our sacred cause,
             That will the chains of vile injustice break.
             To and fro weíll watch the fortunes sway,
             The fortunes that in war the tyrant sought,
             Will in a fleeting moment pass away,
             When famines fail to fill the melting pot.
             Then by the grace that gives us power to win
             We will rejoice, each with a sober mind,
             Much wiser and repentant for our part in sin,
             That brought such trials to our human kind.

Poems of Arthur G. McColm

The Spooncreel's End Evacuating Doos at the Kirk Belfry Bobby and The Wartime Blackoot
An Encounter The Toothache The Glen Kirk Choir
Our Sacred Cause Lambie's Close The Ghost O'Drumley Hoose
Maybole and District The Ash Tree and The Varnished Door Burns and Splendid Isolation

Notes about these poems contributed by the author's daughter Anne McCrindle

Arthur McColmThese poems were written by my dad about Maybole and some of the characters from the town. Some poems were written for events and 'smokers' do's. Some serious some fictional and quite comical. Quite a few about Maybole in war time and his thoughts about the war. Dad was the last son born 1907 to Emily and Tom McColm. They lived in Montgomery Street till they moved to Ladyland Road, across from the school which later burned down in 1919. Dad was a slater and chimney sweep, well known in the town. He played in the Maybole burgh band for many years till it was disbanded. He later became a member of the Ayrshire Yeomanry Band. Sadly he died at the age of sixty in 1968, but has left us with many happy memories and treasures in his written words
Anne Mc Crindle (nee McColm) born in Maybole, daughter of Arthur Mc Colm and Maggie McKay.

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Copyright © Permission for display on this site granted by Anne McCrindle. You may view and download poems for personal use only. No other distribution or use of this text is authorized.