| Andrew Macphail, comp. The Book of Sorrow. 1916. | | | XXXV. Consolation
‘Home they brought her Warrior Dead’ | | By Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809–1892) |
| | | HOME they brought her warrior dead: | |
| She nor swoon’d, nor utter’d cry: | |
| All her maidens, watching, said, | |
| ‘She must weep or she will die.’ | |
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| Then they praised him, soft and low, | 5 |
| Call’d him worthy to be loved, | |
| Truest friend and noblest foe; | |
| Yet she neither spoke nor moved. | |
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| Stole a maiden from her place, | |
| Lightly to the warrior stept, | 10 |
| Took the face-cloth from the face; | |
| Yet she neither moved nor wept. | |
| |
| Rose a nurse of ninety years, | |
| Set his child upon her knee— | |
| Like summer tempest came her tears— | 15 |
| ‘Sweet my child, I live for thee.’ | | | | |
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