Page:Canadian poems of the great war.djvu/207

 " 'The Poet of the Laurentians.' Hon. Lieut-Col. Canon Scott, C.M.G., D.S.O., Senior Chaplain of the 1st Canadian Division. Has served heroically at the Front for four years and now lies wounded in Endsleigh Palace Hospital for Officers, London, England. Born in Montreal, April 7th, 1861.

HEY stand with reverent faces,
 * And their merriment give o'er,

As they drink the toast to the unseen host,
 * Who have fought and gone before.


 * It is only a passing moment

In the midst of the feast and song,
 * But it grips the breath, as the wing of death

In a vision sweeps along.

No more they see the banquet
 * And the brilliant lights around;

But they charge again on the hideous plain
 * When the shell bursts rip the ground.

Or they creep at night, like panthers,
 * Through the waste of No Man's Land,

Their hearts afire with a wild desire
 * And death on every hand.

And out of the roar and tumult,
 * Or the black night loud with rain,

Some face comes back on the fiery track
 * And looks in their eyes again.

And the love that is passing woman's
 * And the bonds that are forged by death,

Now grip the soul with a strange control
 * And speak what no man saith.

The vision dies off in the stillness,
 * Once more the tables shine,

But the eyes of all in the banquet hall
 * Are lit with a light divine.

Vimy Ridge, April, 1917