Page:Poems of the Great War - Cunliffe.djvu/202

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And, in that heap of rocks, your body lies,

Part of the island till the planet ends,

My gentle comrade, beautiful and wise,

Part of this crag this bitter surge offends,

While I, who pass, a little obscure thing,

War with this force, and breathe, and am its king."

— John Masefield.