Page:Canadian poems of the great war.djvu/78

Katherine Hale But these are thoughts steel-bright with pain, And death-thoughts bare and stark, And shining thoughts of armaments That glitter through the dark.

They move, old passions and revolts, Fresh-called, yet stiff with scars, To music crimsoned with the clash Of endless ancient wars.

And those who summon memories From pathways of the sun, When death spoke life most solemnly Ere new life was begun,

They dream of a strange blooming That dawns in greater birth: The frail, bright flower of selflessness Brought back again to earth.

They feel, the Givers of all Life, Great need to give again The utmost dower of womanhood, All mystery—all pain.

HE day we came to London Oh, how strange To see the City-of-the-World like this! Our dreams had been of London. Not 'the sights' But that young London that young hearts explore, The Music Halls, the roads, the sleepy Inns, Where old Romance is felt anew each day. This was to be our London.