It is like the march of the elements to battle, like the heaving of
mountains and the surge of oceans. In nothing else is the sense of Power so
embodied in the pulse of song. And the words are as formidable as the tune.
Carlyle caught their massive, rugged strength in his great translation:
A safe stronghold our God is still,
A trusty shield and weapon;
He'll help us clear from all the ill
That hath us now o'ertaken....
Yes, on the face of it, it seemed a poor lookout for "Tipperary" against
such a foe. But it wasn't, and any one who knew the English temperament
knew it wasn't. I put aside the fact that for practical everyday uses a
cheerful tune is much better than a solemn tune. "Tipperary" quickens the
step and shortens the march. Luther's hymn, so far from lightening the
journey, would become an intolerable burden. The mind would sink under it.
You would either go mad or plunge into some violent excess to recover your
sanity. It is the craziest of philosophy to think that because you are
engaged in a serious business you have to live in a state of exaltation,
that the bow is never to be unstrung, that the top note is never to be
relaxed.
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