Page:For remembrance, soldier poets who have fallen in the war, Adcock, 1920.djvu/147

Rh Boches. They wanted the war." And so to the village and wood of S——, heaps of bricks and stones and charred rafters, smashed trees, shell-holes full of putrid water, a stench of rotten and half-calcined corpses. The place lies open to hostile eyes, and nothing can be done to cleanse it. I have looked at the wreck until my imagination is obsessed by it, but verse can purge the soul of much dangerous thought.' And he copies into the letter the last of his poems: