Page:A treasury of war poetry, British and American poems of the world war, 1914-1919.djvu/99

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I had dined on food that had lost its taste;

My soul was cold and I wished you were here,

When, all in a moment, I knew you were near.

Placing that chair where you used to sit,

I looked at my book:—Three years to-day

Since you laughed in that seat and I heard you say

"My country is with you, whatever befall:

America—Britain—these two are akin

In courage and honour; they underpin

"The rights of Mankind!" Then you grasped my hand

With a brotherly grip, and you made me feel

Something that Time would surely reveal.

You were comely and tall; you had corded arms,

And sympathy's grace with your strength was blent;

You were generous, clever, and confident.

There was that in your hopes which uncountable lives

Have perished to make; your heart was fulfilled

With the breath of God that can never be stilled.

A living symbol of power, you talked

Of the work to do in the world to make

Life beautiful: yes, and my heartstrings ache

To think how you, at the stroke of War,

Chose that your steadfast soul should fly

With the eagles of France as their proud ally.

You were America's self, dear lad—

The first swift son of your bright, free land

To heed the call of the Inner Command—

To image its spirit in such rare deeds

As braced the valour of France, who knows

That the heart of Amerca thrills with her woes.