Page:The Muse in Arms, Osborn (ed), 1917.djvu/111

Rh Horribly glaring up; and the eyes yet wore

Agony dying hard ten days before;

And twisted fingers clutched a blackening wound.

Alone, he staggered on until he found

Dawn's ghost, that filtered down a shafted stair

To the dazed, muttering creatures underground,

Who hear the boom of shells in muffled sound.

At last, with sweat of horror in his hair,

He climbed through darkness to the twilight air,

Unloading hell behind him, step by step.

.