War Notes
I
" EXTRAS "
The crocuses in the Square
Lend a winsome touch to the May:
The clouds are vanished away,
The weather is bland and fair;
Now peace seems everywhere.
Hark to the raucous, sullen cries:
" Extra! Extra! " — tersely flies
The news, and a great hope mounts, or dies.
About the bulletin-boards
Dark knots of people surge:
Strained faces show, then merge
In the inconspicuous hordes
That are the Nation's lords.
" Extra! Extra! Big fight at sea! "
Was the luck with us! Is it victory?
Dear God, they died for you and me!
Meanwhile the crocuses down the street
With heaven's own patience are calm and sweet.
II
PRO PATRIA MORI
A S a gold and scarlet sunset
Glories a somber day,
So sun-bright acts illumine
Dull hours, drive them away.
The date of the deed? Who recks it?
Such moments are timeless things.
Of old, Leonidas thrills us,
He travels on Fame's wide wings.
The date of the deed? Ah! nothing!
Count it by tears or cheers.
For the men who die for Country
Have naught to do with the years!
III
TWO PARADES
Civic Display
The uniforms gleam bright, and as of yore,
Fifes lift the feet that step in time full gay;
This soldiering looks handsome; hark, the roar
That rends the very skies of spring to-day
From mobile multitudes who line the way.
Behold the grace and gallantry of war!
The Return of the Veterans
Beneath gray gloom they tramp along: their tread
Lacks rhythm; faded, soiled, and torn their dress;
They wot of storm and peril, wounds that bled,
And pains beyond imagination's guess.
The lookers-on, struck mute by tenderness,
Hardly huzza: it is as if the dead
Walked with the quick. Beneath a brooding sky
The bronzed and battered veterans limp by.
IV
DECORATION DAY
The uses of adversity are sweet:
Red war, the lust of conquest is forgot;
Beneath bland skies a nation stays her feet,
To laud the hero, grace his sleeping-spot:
For every drop of blood old swords have let,
The rose, the lily, and the violet.
" EXTRAS "
The crocuses in the Square
Lend a winsome touch to the May:
The clouds are vanished away,
The weather is bland and fair;
Now peace seems everywhere.
Hark to the raucous, sullen cries:
" Extra! Extra! " — tersely flies
The news, and a great hope mounts, or dies.
About the bulletin-boards
Dark knots of people surge:
Strained faces show, then merge
In the inconspicuous hordes
That are the Nation's lords.
" Extra! Extra! Big fight at sea! "
Was the luck with us! Is it victory?
Dear God, they died for you and me!
Meanwhile the crocuses down the street
With heaven's own patience are calm and sweet.
II
PRO PATRIA MORI
A S a gold and scarlet sunset
Glories a somber day,
So sun-bright acts illumine
Dull hours, drive them away.
The date of the deed? Who recks it?
Such moments are timeless things.
Of old, Leonidas thrills us,
He travels on Fame's wide wings.
The date of the deed? Ah! nothing!
Count it by tears or cheers.
For the men who die for Country
Have naught to do with the years!
III
TWO PARADES
Civic Display
The uniforms gleam bright, and as of yore,
Fifes lift the feet that step in time full gay;
This soldiering looks handsome; hark, the roar
That rends the very skies of spring to-day
From mobile multitudes who line the way.
Behold the grace and gallantry of war!
The Return of the Veterans
Beneath gray gloom they tramp along: their tread
Lacks rhythm; faded, soiled, and torn their dress;
They wot of storm and peril, wounds that bled,
And pains beyond imagination's guess.
The lookers-on, struck mute by tenderness,
Hardly huzza: it is as if the dead
Walked with the quick. Beneath a brooding sky
The bronzed and battered veterans limp by.
IV
DECORATION DAY
The uses of adversity are sweet:
Red war, the lust of conquest is forgot;
Beneath bland skies a nation stays her feet,
To laud the hero, grace his sleeping-spot:
For every drop of blood old swords have let,
The rose, the lily, and the violet.
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