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ARMISTICE DAY
AFTER BATTLE
When the first larks began to soar,
They left him wounded there;
Pity unlatched the sun-lit door,
And smoothed his clotted hair.
But when the larks were still, before
The mist began to rise,
'Twas Love that latched the star-lit door,
And closed his dreamless eyes.
THE YOUNG DEAD
Those who were born so beautifully
Of straight-limbed men and white-browed, candid wives,
Now have walked out beyond where we can see;
Are full-grown men, with spent and splendid lives:
And these that only a little while ago
Without our help would stumble in steep places,
Need never our hands, stride proudly on, and so
Come to a dawn of great, unknown spaces.
