Page:The Muse in Arms, Osborn (ed), 1917.djvu/46

 II

ow that I am ta'en away

And may not see another day

What is it to my eye appears?

What sound rings in my stricken ears?

Not even the voice of any friend

Or eyes beloved-world-without-end,

But scenes and sounds of the country-side

In far England across the tide:

An upland field when spring's begun,

Mellow beneath the evening sun

A circle of loose and lichened wall

Over which seven red pines fall

An orchard of wizen blossoming trees

Wherein the nesting chaffinches

Begin again the self-same song

All the late April day-time long

Paths that lead a shelving course

Between the chalk scarp and the gorse

By English downs; and oh! too well

I hear the hidden, clanking bell

Of wandering sheep I see the brown

Twilight of the huge, empty down 4