Of Time. In dream I saw them go–
And thought, ‘When they come back I’ll show
To what far place I lead my friends
Where this disastrous decade ends.’
Like one in purgatory, I learned
The loss of hope. For none returned,
And long in darkening dream I lay.
Then came a ghost whose warning breath
Gasped from an agony of death,
‘No, not that way; no, not that way.’
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When half the drowsy world’s a-bed
With jollity of horn and lusty cheer,Young Nimrod urges on his dwindling rout;Along the yellowing coverts we can hearHis horse’s hoofs thud hither and about:In mulberry coat he rides and makesHuge clamour in the sultry brakes.
Dark clouds are smouldering into red
The dying soldier shifts his headTo watch the glory that returns;He lifts his fingers toward the skiesWhere holy brightness breaks in flame;Radiance reflected in his eyes,And on his lips a whispered name.You’d think, to hear some people talk,That lads go West with sobs and curses,And sullen faces white as chalk,Hankering for wreaths and tombs and…
‘Jack fell as he’d have wished,’ the mother said,
‘The Colonel writes so nicely.’ Something brokeIn the tired voice that quavered to a choke.She half looked up. ‘We mothers are so proudOf our dead soldiers.’ Then her face was bowed.Quietly the Brother Officer went out.He’d told the poor old dear some gallant liesThat she would nourish all her days, no doubtFor while he coughed…
For Morn, my dome of blue,
And Birds who love the twilight of the leaves,Let Jesus keep me joyful when I pray.For the big Bees that humAnd hide in bells of flowers;For the winding roads that comeTo Evening’s holy door,May Jesus bring me grateful to his arms,And guard my innocence for evermore.
I listen for him through the rain,
I know that he will come again;Loth was he ever to forsake me:He comes with glimmering of flowersAnd stir of music to awake me.Spirit of purity, he standsAs once he lived in charm and grace:I may not hold him with my hands,Nor bid him stay to heal my sorrow;Only his fair, unshadowed faceAbides with me…
I am banished from the patient men who fight
Shoulder to aching shoulder, side by side,They trudged away from life’s broad wealds of light.Their wrongs were mine; and ever in my sightThey went arrayed in honour. But they died,—Not one by one: and mutinous I criedTo those who sent them out into the night.The darkness tells how vainly I have strivenTo free them from…