Thick-voiced, he read it out. (His face was grave.)
‘This officer advanced with the first wave,
‘And when our first objective had been gained,
‘(Though wounded twice), reorganized the line:
‘The spirit of the troops was by his fine
‘Example most effectively sustained.’
He gripped his beard; then closed his eyes and said,
‘Bathsheba must be warned that he is dead.
‘Send for her. I will be the first to tell
‘This wife how her heroic husband fell.’
Goes winding all the day.Scant are the flowers that bloomBeneath the bosky screenAnd cage of golden gloom.Few are the birds that call,Shrill-voiced and seldom seen.Where silence masters all,And light my footsteps fall,The whispering runnels onlyWith blazing noon confer;And comes no breeze to stirThe tangled thickets lonely.
I hear a sound of mouth-organs, ill-played,And murmur of voices, gruff, confused, and low.Crouched among thistle-tufts I’ve watched the glowOf a blurred orange sunset flare and fade;And I’m content. To-morrow we must goTo take some cursèd Wood … O world God made!July 3rd, 1916.
And blundered in. With puzzled, patient faceA sergeant watched him; it was no good tryingTo stop it; for he howled and beat his chest.And, all because his brother had gone west,Raved at the bleeding war; his rampant griefMoaned, shouted, sobbed, and choked, while he was kneelingHalf-naked on the floor. In my beliefSuch men have lost…
Harking the storm that rides a hurtling legionUp the arched sky, and speeds quick heels of panicWith growling thunder loosed in fork and clapThat echoes crashing thro’ the slumbrous vault.The whispering woodlands darken: vulture GloomStoops, menacing the skeltering flocks of Light,Where the gaunt shepherd shakes his gleaming staffAnd foots with angry tidings down the slope.Drip,…
Or with blackbirds in a green, sun-glinted thicket?Oh, I heard you like a tyrant in the valley;Your ruffian haste shook the young, blossoming orchards;You clapped rude hands, hallooing round the chimney,And white your pennons streamed along the river.You have robbed the bee, South Wind, in your adventure,Blustering with gentle flowers; but I forgave youWhen you…
And stretching forth these arms I cannot beLord of winged sunrise and dim Arcady:When fieldward boys far off with clack and shoutFrom orchards scare the birds in sudden rout,Come, ere my heart grows cold and full of doubt,In the still summer dawns that waken me.When the first lark goes up to look for dayAnd morning…
