| Andrew Macphail, comp. The Book of Sorrow. 1916. | | | XXXIV. Compensation
‘In Love with Easeful Death’ | | By Mary E. Fletcher |
| | | ‘IN love with easeful death?’ Not I, | |
| Too well I love this friendly sky, | |
| The sunrise and the sunset hour, | |
| The winter storm and summer shower, | |
| The hand-clasp and the glad surprise | 5 |
| Of welcome in a good friend’s eyes. | |
| |
| In truth, I have a secret dread | |
| Of lying down among the dead, | |
| The poor, white dead bereft of will, | |
| Who lie so cold, so strangely still, | 10 |
| The while we break our hearts and pray | |
| For one fond word of yesterday. | |
| |
| I’d go as children do, at night, | |
| When they must leave the warmth and light, | |
| With lagging step and looks behind | 15 |
| At toys beloved and faces kind, | |
| Only half sure of God to keep | |
| Strange terrors from them while they sleep. | | | | |
|
|
