Page:The Muse in Arms, Osborn (ed), 1917.djvu/301

 CXIII

1. Sending

HEN as of old the Spartan mother sent

Her best beloved to the perilous field,

One charge she laid upon him ere he went:

"Return, my son, or with or on thy shield."

Even so we, with anguish unrevealed

By eyes o'er-bright and lips to laughter lent,

Sent forth our men to battle, nor would yield

To tears by pride's fierce barriers hardly pent.

So when they fight and all the world goes red,

No memories athwart their souls shall come

That might unman them in the hour of need,

But such brave glances veiling hearts that bleed

As those old mothers turned upon their dead

On comrades' shoulders borne triumphant home.

2. Rebellion

it for this, dear God, that they were born,

These sons of ours, the beautiful and brave,

To fall far from us, leaving us forlorn,

Scarce knowing even if they found a grave? 259