Page:Poems of the Great War - Cunliffe.djvu/272

 246 JAMES STEPHENS

��Do not forget my charge I beg of you ;

That of what flow'rs you find of fairest hue

And sweetest odor you do gather those

Are best of all the best — a fragrant rose,

A tall calm lily from the waterside,

A half-blown poppy leaning at the side

Its graceful head to dream among the corn,

Forget-me-nots that seem as though the morn

Had tumbled down and grew into the clay,

And hawthorn buds that swing along the way

Easing the hearts of those who pass them by

Until they find contentment. — Do not cry,

But gather buds, and with them greenery

Of slender branches taken from a tree

Well bannered by the spring that saw them

fall: Then you, for you are cleverest of all Who have slim fingers and are pitiful, Brimming your lap with bloom that you may

cull. Will sit apart, and weave for every head A garland of the flow'rs you gathered.

�� �