Page:More songs by the fighting men, soldier poets, second series, 1917.djvu/42

 LESLIE COULSON

(Died of Wounds in France, October, 1916)

"—But a Short Time to Live"

UR little hour,—how swift it flies

When poppies flare and lilies smile;

How soon the fleeting minute dies,

Leaving us but a little while

To dream our dream, to sing our song,

To pick the fruit, to pluck the flower,

The Gods—They do not give us long,—

One little hour.

One little hour,—how short it is

When Love with dew-eyed loveliness

Raises her lips for ours to kiss

And dies within our first caress.

Youth flickers out like wind-blown flame,

Sweets of to-day to-morrow sour,

For Time and Death relentless claim

Our little hour.

Our little hour,—how short a time

To wage our wars, to fan our hates, 38