Page:Canadian poems of the great war.djvu/143

 George H. Maitland

THE BOY WHO LIES OUT YONDER

HESE are the fathers and mothers who wept when the whistles blew,

Visioning over and visioning over a little lad they knew;

Visioning over and visioning over, and seeing once and again

The little lad they had cherished march off—a man—with men;

Broken of heart, undone, visioning now in their tears

An empty chair. . . and the lonely, empty years.

What shall repay the service which nought on earth can repay?

How shall a nation render the thanks in its heart this day?

Whistle and horn and clamour, trumpet and shout and song—

But the boy who lies out yonder. . . he will sleep long.

And the father and mother who lost him steal up to an empty place,

The mother with lips a-tremble, the man with his stony face—

HIS room, she had kept it ready to welcome him back again,

Since the little lad they had cherished marched off—a man—with men.

What shall requite their service which nought on earth can requite?

Who shall appraise or name it, who measure its worth aright?

Out from the noise and clamour, now while the siren blows, 139