Page:The Muse in Arms, Osborn (ed), 1917.djvu/305

Rh He'll come when he has flamed in flight

Across these heavy mists of night,

And, singing like the skylark, run

To greet a newly risen sun.

And I who watch and bless him forth,

Though he go south and I go north,

Would take with him the skyward way

And clamber up the stairs of day:

Pour life in careless jewelled flow,

Nor pause, nor plan, nor look below.

O small brave lark, O brother dear,

Sing to us through the next long year;

For life's adventurers are we,

And life calls you, and him, and me.

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