Page:A treasury of war poetry, British and American poems of the world war, 1914-1919.djvu/70

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And at night the fireflies dancing

Were the light of men advancing.

Swift his hands. His brain was cool.

"Hell," he said, "poor Tom's at school."

Then he rested on the beach

Just beyond the ripples' reach,

Home and sunset in his dream

Till the shrapnel's quicker gleam

Found his heart, and found his head—

Found him dreaming, left him dead.

And they buried him at night

With men fallen in the fight.

So he fought and went away

With the glory of the day,

And no hatred in his heart

When the great ways met to part.

On a beach without a name

He died sleeping, robbed of fame,

Just before the day grew dim.

Tom, his brother, envied him. Ben Kendim

HE wireless tells and the cable tells

How our boys behaved by the Dardanelles.

Some thought in their hearts "Will our boys make good?"

We knew them of old and we knew they would!

Knew they would—

Knew they would;

We were mates of old and we knew they would.

They laughed and they larked and they loved likewise,

For blood is warm under Southern skies;