Page:The Muse in Arms, Osborn (ed), 1917.djvu/232

 LXXXI

N dream I saw the men whom once I knew,

Whom in the by-gone year the Teuton slew,

Or Turk or Bulgar—those who sacrificed

Their lives and all for which their lives they prized—

And they were met as in the happier time

Before the first act of imperial crime,

Within a College garden in the shade

Of what was once a rampart undecayed.

They saw me not: and all were silent; each

Seemed lost in pondering too deep for speech,

As if, though undisdainful, they had nought

To utter for the modes of human thought,

And yet perchance they thought as one would fain

Imagine that they thought, returned again

To find the sacredness of quiet hours

And beauty, time-unravaged, near these towers.

Into the still quadrangle, as one is fain

To bear a cherished poem in the brain,

And music and great phrases that are dear.

Or one might pause—though 'twere not wise—to hear 190