When the heath wore the robe of late summer, And the fuchsia-bells, hot in the sun, Hung red by the door, a quick comer Brought tidings that marching was done For him who had joined in that game overseas Where Death stood to win, though his name was to borrow A brightness therefrom not to fade on the morrow.
September 1915.
"OFTEN WHEN WARRING"
Often when warring for he wist not what, An enemy-soldier, passing by one weak, Has tendered water, wiped the burning cheek, And cooled the lips so black and clammed and hot;Then gone his way, and maybe quite forgot The deed of grace amid the roar and reek;Yet larger vision than loud arms bespeak He there has reached, although he has known it not.
For natural mindsight, triumphing in the act Over the throes of artificial rage, Has thuswise muffled victory's peal of pride, Rended to ribands policy's specious page That deals but with evasion, code, and pact, And war's apology wholly stultified.
1915.
THEN AND NOW
When battles were fought With a chivalrous sense of Should and Ought, In spirit men said, "End we quick or dead, Honour is some reward!
Let us fight fair--for our own best or worst;So, Gentlemen of the Guard, Fire first!"
In the open they stood, Man to man in his knightlihood:
They would not deign To profit by a stain On the honourable rules, Knowing that practise perfidy no man durst Who in the heroic schools Was nurst.
But now, behold, what Is warfare wherein honour is not!
Rama laments Its dead innocents:
Herod breathes: "Sly slaughter Shall rule! Let us, by modes once called accurst, Overhead, under water, Stab first."1915.