Page:A treasury of war poetry, British and American poems of the world war, 1914-1919.djvu/342

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O brother to the birds and all things free,

Captain of liberty.

Deep in your heart the restless seed was sown;

The vagrant spirit fretted in your feet;

We wondered could you tarry long,

And brook for long the cramping street,

Or would you one day sail for shores unknown,

And shake from you the dust of towns, and spurn

The crowded market-place—and not return?

You found a sterner guide;

You heard the guns. Then, to their distant fire,

Your dreams were laid aside;

And on that day, you cast your heart's desire

Upon a burning pyre;

You gave your service to the exalted need,

Until at last from bondage freed,

At liberty to serve as you loved best,

You chose the noblest way. God did the rest.

So when the spring of the world shall shrive our stain,

After the winter of war,

When the poor world awakes to peace once more,

After such night of ravage and of rain,

You shall not come again.

You shall not come to taste the old Spring weather,

To gallop through the soft untrampled heather,

To bathe and bake your body on the grass.

We shall be there, alas!

But not with you. When Spring shall wake the earth,

And quicken the scarred fields to the new birth,

Our grief shall grow. For what can Spring renew

More fiercely for us than the need of you?

That night I dreamt they sent for me and said

That you were missing, "missing, missing—dead"

I cried when in the morning I awoke,

And all the world seemed shrouded in a cloak;

But when I saw the sun,

And knew another day had just begun,