204 MAJOR SYDNEY OSWALD
��THE DEAD SOLDIER
Thy dear brown eyes which were as depths where truth Lay bowered with froHc joy, but yesterday Shone with the fire of thy so guileless youth,
Now ruthless death has dimmed and closed for aye.
Those sweet red lips, that never knew the stain Of angry words or harsh, or thoughts unclean,
Have sung their last gay song. Never again Shall I the harvest of their laughter glean.
The goodly harvest of thy laughing mouth Is garnered in ; and lo ! the golden grain
Of all thy generous thoughts, which knew no drouth Of meanness, and thy tender words remain
Stored in my heart ; and though I may not see Thy peerless form nor hear thy voice again,
The memory lives of what thou wast to me,
We knew great love. ... We have not lived in
vain.
— Sydney Oswald.
(Major, King's Royal Rifle Corps.)
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