| HE drowsed and was aware of silence heaped | |
| Round him, unshaken as the steadfast walls; | |
| Aqueous like floating rays of amber light, | |
| Soaring and quivering in the wings of sleep. | |
| Silence and safety; and his mortal shore | 5 |
| Lipped by the inward, moonless waves of death. | |
| |
| Someone was holding water to his mouth. | |
| He swallowed, unresisting; moaned and dropped | |
| Through crimson gloom to darkness; and forgot | |
| The opiate throb and ache that was his wound. | 10 |
| Water—calm, sliding green above the weir. | |
| Water—a sky-lit alley for his boat, | |
| Bird-voiced, and bordered with reflected flowers | |
| And shaken hues of summer; drifting down, | |
| He dipped contented oars, and sighed, and slept. | 15 |
| |
| Night, with a gust of wind, was in the ward, | |
| Blowing the curtain to a glimmering curve. | |
| Night. He was blind; he could not see the stars | |
| Glinting among the wraiths of wandering cloud; | |
| Queer blots of colour, purple, scarlet, green, | 20 |
| Flickered and faded in his drowning eyes. | |
| |
| Rain—he could hear it rustling through the dark; | |
| Fragrance and passionless music woven as one; | |
| Warm rain on drooping roses; pattering showers | |
| That soak the woods; not the harsh rain that sweeps | 25 |
| Behind the thunder, but a trickling peace, | |
Gently and slowly washing life away.
. . . . | |
| He stirred, shifting his body; then the pain | |
| Leapt like a prowling beast, and gripped and tore | |
| His groping dreams with grinding claws and fangs. | 30 |
| But someone was beside him; soon he lay | |
| Shuddering because that evil thing had passed. | |
| And death, who’d stepped toward him, paused and stared. | |
| |
| Light many lamps and gather round his bed. | |
| Lend him your eyes, warm blood, and will to live. | 35 |
| Speak to him; rouse him; you may save him yet. | |
| He’s young; he hated War; how should he die | |
| When cruel old campaigners win safe through? | |
| |
| But death replied: ‘I choose him.’ So he went, | |
| And there was silence in the summer night; | 40 |
| Silence and safety; and the veils of sleep. | |
| Then, far away, the thudding of the guns. | |
