"--And this is why that by ceasing to be -Though never your countenance did I see -You prove you a good good friend to me;
"And I pray each hour for your soul's repose In gratitude for your joining those No lover will clasp when his campaigns close."Away she turned, when arose to her eye A martial phantom of gory dye, That said, with a thin and far-off sigh:
"O sweetheart, neither shall I clasp you, For the foe this day has pierced me through, And sent me to where she is. Adieu! -"And forget not when the night-wind's whine Calls over this turf where her limbs recline, That it travels on to lament by mine."There was a cry by the white-flowered mound, There was a laugh from underground, There was a deeper gloom around.
1915.
A NEW YEAR'S EVE IN WAR TIME
I
Phantasmal fears, And the flap of the flame, And the throb of the clock, And a loosened slate, And the blind night's drone, Which tiredly the spectral pines intone!
II
And the blood in my ears Strumming always the same, And the gable-cock With its fitful grate, And myself, alone.
III
The twelfth hour nears Hand-hid, as in shame;I undo the lock, And listen, and wait For the Young Unknown.
IV
In the dark there careers -
As if Death astride came To numb all with his knock -A horse at mad rate Over rut and stone.
V
No figure appears, No call of my name, No sound but "Tic-toc"Without check. Past the gate It clatters--is gone.
VI