A Treasury of War Poetry (2nd Series)/At the Movies

swing across the screen in brave array, Long British columns grinding the dark grass. Twelve months ago they marched into the gray Of battle; yet again behold them pass!

One lifts his dusty cap; his hair is bright; I meet his eyes, eager and young and bold. The picture quivers into ghostly white; Then I remember, and my heart grows cold! Florence Ripley Mastin January, 1916