Poems

<SPAN name="startofbook"></SPAN> <hr class="full" /> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/cover.jpg" width-obs="323" height-obs="500" alt="" title="" /></div> <div class="bbox"> <h1>POEMS</h1> <p><SPAN name="page_001" id="page_001"></SPAN>&nbsp; </p> <p class="c">BY<br/><br/> D. M. MATHESON<br/><br/> EX-PRINCIPAL<br/><br/> ALEXANDER MCKAY SCHOOL<br/><br/><br/> <ANTIMG src="images/colophon.png" width-obs="50" height-obs="62" alt="colophon not available" /><br/> <br/><br/> HALIFAX, N. S.<br/> <SPAN name="page_002" id="page_002"></SPAN>&nbsp; </p> </div> <h2><SPAN name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></SPAN>CONTENTS</h2> <table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary=""> <tr><td><SPAN href="#INDIAN_SUMMER">Indian Summer</SPAN></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_003">3-4</SPAN></td></tr> <tr><td><SPAN href="#MOTHER_LOVE">Mother Love</SPAN></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_004">4</SPAN></td></tr> <tr><td><SPAN href="#PETOOBOK">Petoobok</SPAN></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_005">5-6</SPAN></td></tr> <tr><td><SPAN href="#LANGEMARC">Langemarc</SPAN></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_007">7</SPAN></td></tr> <tr><td><SPAN href="#EDITH_CAVELL">Edith Cavell</SPAN></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_008">8</SPAN></td></tr> <tr><td><SPAN href="#TO_CARDINAL_MERCIER">To Cardinal Mercier</SPAN></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_008">8</SPAN></td></tr> <tr><td><SPAN href="#THE_BARD_OF_AYR">The Bard Of Ayr</SPAN></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_009">9</SPAN></td></tr> <tr><td><SPAN href="#THE_SOUL_OF_FLANDERS">The Soul Of Flanders</SPAN></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_010">10</SPAN></td></tr> <tr><td><SPAN href="#THE_GARDENS">The Gardens</SPAN></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_011">11</SPAN></td></tr> <tr><td><SPAN href="#KEEP_THE_GARDENS_GROWING">Keep The Gardens Growing</SPAN></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_012">12</SPAN></td></tr> <tr><td><SPAN href="#AN_ELEGY_WRITTEN_IN_RICHMOND">An Elegy Written In Richmond</SPAN></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_013">13-17</SPAN></td></tr> <tr><td><SPAN href="#THE_COTTAGE_SCHOOL">The Cottage School.</SPAN></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_018">18-21</SPAN></td></tr> <tr><td><SPAN href="#DECEMBER_SIXTH_1917">December Sixth, 1917.</SPAN></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_022">22-23</SPAN></td></tr> <tr><td><SPAN href="#LIFE_IS_BUT_ONE_DARN_THING_AFTER_ANOTHER">Life Is But One Darn Thing After Another.</SPAN></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_024">24</SPAN></td></tr> <tr><td><SPAN href="#COURCELLETTE">Courcellette.</SPAN></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_025">25-26</SPAN></td></tr> <tr><td><SPAN href="#VIMY_RIDGE">Vimy Ridge.</SPAN></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_027">27-28</SPAN></td></tr> <tr><td><SPAN href="#GOD_SAVE_OUR_EMPIRE_GREAT">God Save Our Empire Great.</SPAN></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_029">29</SPAN></td></tr> <tr><td><SPAN href="#THE_VETERAN">The Veteran</SPAN></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_030">30</SPAN><SPAN name="page_003" id="page_003"></SPAN></td></tr> </table> <h2><SPAN name="INDIAN_SUMMER" id="INDIAN_SUMMER"></SPAN>INDIAN SUMMER</h2> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Fair are fleets of white winged prows<br/></span> <span class="i2">Swiftly sailing o’er the sea;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Fair are herds of homing cows,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Winding slowly o’er the lea;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Fair are orchards, when replete<br/></span> <span class="i2">With rich blossoms pink and white;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Fair are fields of ripening wheat<br/></span> <span class="i2">Shining in the morning light;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Fair is any mountain sheet<br/></span> <span class="i2">Burnishing in colors bright;<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Fair are all Acadia’s lands;<br/></span> <span class="i2">All its streams and wooded lakes,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Headlands high and pebbly strands,<br/></span> <span class="i2">When the early morning breaks,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Fair its scented flowers and trees,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And its many landlocked bays,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Rippling in the summer breeze;<br/></span> <span class="i2">Themes for minstrel muses’ lays&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">But far fairer than all these<br/></span> <span class="i2">Are Acadia’s autumn days.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Made from heavenly design<br/></span> <span class="i2">By some unseen Artisan;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Gift of Architect divine,<br/></span> <span class="i2">To Acadia’s Weather man.<br/></span> <span class="i0">Fairest season of the year,<br/></span> <span class="i2">When boon Nature’s at her height<br/></span> <span class="i0">Robed in all her beauty sere,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And fair Luna sheds her light<br/></span> <span class="i0">With a more bewitching cheer<br/></span> <span class="i2">Through the watches of the night.<SPAN name="page_004" id="page_004"></SPAN><br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">And God’s lowly creatures all,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Who the freeman’s burden bore,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Having heeded labor’s call<br/></span> <span class="i2">Now have plentitude in store,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And from every household hearth<br/></span> <span class="i2">Nightly offered up the “word”.<br/></span> <span class="i0">As a sacrifice of worth<br/></span> <span class="i2">To a kind and gracious Lord<br/></span> <span class="i0">For the riches of the earth,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Filling thus the family board.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">And a thrill of peaceful joy<br/></span> <span class="i2">Permeates the human breast<br/></span> <span class="i0">And the starry vaulted sky<br/></span> <span class="i2">Seemingly is at its best,<br/></span> <span class="i0">For old Sol in all his pride<br/></span> <span class="i2">Scorpion doth then adorn,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Midway in his yearly ride<br/></span> <span class="i2">’Twixt the Line and Capricorn.<br/></span> <span class="i0">In this lovely Autumntide<br/></span> <span class="i2">Was Waegwoltic’s wedding morn.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <p class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/decoration.png" width-obs="70" height-obs="16" alt="decoration of text" title="" /></p> <h2><SPAN name="MOTHER_LOVE" id="MOTHER_LOVE"></SPAN>MOTHER LOVE</h2> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Mother! All that’s blest and good,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Centres round that treasured word,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Mother-love and motherhood!<br/></span> <span class="i2">Sweetest sounds man ever heard,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Mother! blest and sweetest name,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Spoken by the human tongue,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Age and youth do thee acclaim,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Angels have thy praises sung,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And the greatness of thy fame,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Hath through all the ages rung.<SPAN name="page_005" id="page_005"></SPAN><br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Mother-love! whose fountain flow,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Feedeth man the living breath,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And which burns with tenser glow,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Even when he’s cold in death;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Blest and wondrous gift divine<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of the master Artisan<br/></span> <span class="i0">In fair Eden’s holy shrine<br/></span> <span class="i2">To the fallen creature man,<br/></span> <span class="i0">When fell Satan did design<br/></span> <span class="i2">To destroy Creation’s plan.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <p class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/decoration.png" width-obs="70" height-obs="16" alt="decoration of text" title="" /></p> <h2><SPAN name="PETOOBOK" id="PETOOBOK"></SPAN>PETOOBOK</h2> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Of Petoobok and of its golden sea,<br/></span> <span class="i2">The fairest gem of Nature’s fashioning<br/></span> <span class="i0">The beauty spot of beauteous Acadie,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Its summer and its winter scenes I sing:<br/></span> <span class="i0">Here in primeval days great Neptune wise<br/></span> <span class="i2">Conspired with Fora, bounteous and free,<br/></span> <span class="i0">To make a masterpiece, a paradise,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Where Nymphs and Naiad’s might forever woo;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And now by night and day it ever lies<br/></span> <span class="i2">Reflecting in its waters, deep and blue<br/></span> <span class="i0">The heavenly wonders of the vaulted skies.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">In splendour, wild and picturesque and grand,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Beneath its sentinel hills like crystal set<br/></span> <span class="i0">With rarest taste by God and Nature’s hand.<br/></span> <span class="i2">It mirrors in its depth the silhouette<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of mountains, which, like heroes of romance,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Along its lovely shores forever stand,<br/></span> <span class="i0">To guard the waters of its vast expanse,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And holds to-day the same bewitching charm<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of loveliness divine, you to entrance,<br/></span> <span class="i2">As on the morn the cry of Golden Arm,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Burst from the lips of sons of sunny France.<SPAN name="page_006" id="page_006"></SPAN><br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Lake Petoobok, on summer afternoon<br/></span> <span class="i2">Looks fair and lovely to the mortal gaze,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And lovely too, what time the hunter’s moon<br/></span> <span class="i2">Illuminates it with her bewitching rays,<br/></span> <span class="i0">As it lies sleeping ’neath its guardian hills<br/></span> <span class="i2">By Flora robed in beauty, rare and boon,<br/></span> <span class="i0">With foliage of variegated frills<br/></span> <span class="i2">On which the dancing beams like fairies glint<br/></span> <span class="i0">And from Dame Nature’s ample store distils<br/></span> <span class="i2">Those dyes of one and thousand autumn tints<br/></span> <span class="i0">Wrought by some magic hand in fairy mills.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">But Petoobok is fairest to behold<br/></span> <span class="i2">On Autumn morn, when orient Sunlight breaks<br/></span> <span class="i0">In radiant glory on its arm of gold,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And gentle noosuk<SPAN name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</SPAN> into the ripples shakes,<br/></span> <span class="i0">The placid surface of its crystal sea,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And to the eye a vista doth unfold,<br/></span> <span class="i0">A wondrous scene of heavenly alchemy,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Like that told us by John in Holy Writ,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Which fills the soul with perfect ecstasy,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And which once seen, though time be preterit<br/></span> <span class="i0">In after life in dreams you’ll ever see.<br/><br/></span> <span class="i0"><SPAN name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">[A]</span></SPAN> West wind.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <p><SPAN name="page_007" id="page_007"></SPAN></p> <h2><SPAN name="LANGEMARC" id="LANGEMARC"></SPAN>LANGEMARC<br/><br/> (1915)</h2> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Sleep on ye brave Canadians,<br/></span> <span class="i0">In Langemarc’s blood-stained mead,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Your glorious act will ever rank<br/></span> <span class="i0">A truly golden deed,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Sleep on with France and Briton<br/></span> <span class="i0">And Belgian, side by side,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Sleep ye and they your last long sleep,<br/></span> <span class="i0">The last roll call to bide.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">And mother nature, gentlest nurse,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Will ever nightly lave<br/></span> <span class="i0">Your lowly grave with kindly dews<br/></span> <span class="i0">While weeping willows wave;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And kindly zephyrs every day,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And every night will sigh,<br/></span> <span class="i0">A sweet memoriam for aye,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Your tomb to sanctify.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">And Belgian maids and matrons, too<br/></span> <span class="i0">Will often leave the loom<br/></span> <span class="i0">To gather wilding flowers,<br/></span> <span class="i0">To beautify your tomb;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And peasants when they pass your way,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Oft to their sons will say:<br/></span> <span class="i0">“&nbsp;’Twas here the brave Canadians<br/></span> <span class="i0">The fierce Huns held at bay.”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">And when the Angel Gabriel,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Shall sound the trumpet blast,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Then you shall all awaken<br/></span> <span class="i0">From your seeming death at last,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And, standing at attention,<br/></span> <span class="i0">While angel voices sing,<br/></span> <span class="i0">In unison you will salute,<br/></span> <span class="i0">The universal King.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <p><SPAN name="page_008" id="page_008"></SPAN></p> <h2><SPAN name="EDITH_CAVELL" id="EDITH_CAVELL"></SPAN>EDITH CAVELL<br/><br/> (1916)</h2> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Dear martyred maid, thy cruel death hath thrilled<br/></span> <span class="i0">With loathing deep the whole of human kind<br/></span> <span class="i0">Against the Hun who thy death sentence signed;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Thy barb’rous death all manly hearts hath filled<br/></span> <span class="i0">With feelings such as never can be stilled;<br/></span> <span class="i0">In every home thy name is hence enshrined,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Thy death scene pictured clear in every mind<br/></span> <span class="i0">In thy life’s blood, the murd’rous Hun hath spilled<br/></span> <span class="i0">Angelic maid, could we but lift the veil<br/></span> <span class="i0">Which hides from mortal eyes God’s holy land<br/></span> <span class="i0">With Joan of Arc and Florence Nightingale,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Thy wounded temple with a filet bound,<br/></span> <span class="i0">With harp in hand, thy head with glory crowned,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Amidst the heavenly choir we’d see thee stand.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <p class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/decoration.png" width-obs="70" height-obs="16" alt="decoration of text" title="" /></p> <h2><SPAN name="TO_CARDINAL_MERCIER" id="TO_CARDINAL_MERCIER"></SPAN>TO CARDINAL MERCIER<br/><br/> (1916)</h2> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Illustrious shepherd of the Prince of Peace,<br/></span> <span class="i0">With priestly zeal you watched thy Belgian fold,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Any aye performed its duties manifold,<br/></span> <span class="i0">That love and virtue did therein increase,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And want and sorrow all the while surcease,<br/></span> <span class="i0">While Christian culture her rich page enrolled<br/></span> <span class="i0">Heroic men and women chaste to mould;<br/></span> <span class="i0">The cross, thy sceptre, and the crook, thy creese:<br/></span> <span class="i0">But when the robber Hun assailed thy flock,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Then stood you forth, the patriot and priest,<br/></span> <span class="i0">With clarion call to champion the right,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And met the onset of the Prussian beast<br/></span> <span class="i0">And all the hosts of his embattled might,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Firm and immovable, as Zion’s Rock.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <p><SPAN name="page_009" id="page_009"></SPAN></p> <h2><SPAN name="THE_BARD_OF_AYR" id="THE_BARD_OF_AYR"></SPAN>THE BARD OF AYR<br/><br/> (1915)</h2> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Oh come sweet muse, with well tuned lyre,<br/></span> <span class="i2">On this our Robbie’s natal day,<br/></span> <span class="i0">A rustic poet’s mind inspire<br/></span> <span class="i2">That he may sing a homely lay.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Of all the warblers ever born,<br/></span> <span class="i2">I dearly love the bard of Ayr,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Whose lovely songs both night and morn,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Have freed my wearied mind from care.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">If fault he had, ’twas Nature’s fault,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And man, beware that you have none,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Before you do yourself exalt,<br/></span> <span class="i2">To cast at Robbie Burns a stone.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">I wish he was with us tonight,<br/></span> <span class="i2">To pass a pleasant hour or two,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And fill all hearts with rare delight,<br/></span> <span class="i2">As he was ever wont to do.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Methinks e’en now I see him sit<br/></span> <span class="i2">The centre of an eager throng,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And hear his ceaseless flow of wit,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Or words of some soul stirring song.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">His lovely songs will e’er be sung,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And greener grow his memory,<br/></span> <span class="i0">’Mong people whether old or young,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Till father Time has ceased to be.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <p><SPAN name="page_010" id="page_010"></SPAN></p> <h2><SPAN name="THE_SOUL_OF_FLANDERS" id="THE_SOUL_OF_FLANDERS"></SPAN>THE SOUL OF FLANDERS<br/><br/> (1916)</h2> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">The chimes that oft from old Malines,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Rang out their sacred strain,<br/></span> <span class="i0">At morning, noon and eventide,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Shall never ring again;<br/></span> <span class="i0">That voice that called the living,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Or sadly mourned the dead,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Is still and silent now for aye:<br/></span> <span class="i0">The soul of Flanders’ fled.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">The peasant at his daily toil,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Shall listen now in vain,<br/></span> <span class="i0">From early morn till evening,<br/></span> <span class="i0">To hear those chimes again;<br/></span> <span class="i0">But never shall such silver sounds<br/></span> <span class="i0">By harmony inbred,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Fall on his ever listening ears;<br/></span> <span class="i0">The soul of Flanders’ fled.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Those lovely chimes, which e’er were wont<br/></span> <span class="i0">To sound with morn’s first beams,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And ’wake the tourist from his sleep,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Will haunt his waking dreams;<br/></span> <span class="i0">But never more those dulcet sounds<br/></span> <span class="i0">Will rouse him from his bed,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And fill his soul with ecstasy:<br/></span> <span class="i0">The soul of Flanders’ fled.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">’Tis strangely sad such chimes as those,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Which seemed a heavenly dow’r,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Should fall a prey to tyranny,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And war’s barbaric pow’r,<br/></span> <span class="i0">A city new will rise again<br/></span> <span class="i0">Up from its ashen bed,<br/></span> <span class="i0">But those old chimes shall ring no more:<br/></span> <span class="i0">The soul of Flanders’ fled.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <p><SPAN name="page_011" id="page_011"></SPAN></p> <h2><SPAN name="THE_GARDENS" id="THE_GARDENS"></SPAN>THE GARDENS<br/><br/> (1914)</h2> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="linespc"> <span class="i0">Lovely Gardens, Eden’s bower,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Lovely in sunshine and shower.<br/></span> <span class="i0">Winding walks and shaded seats,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Babbling streams and cool retreats,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Flowing fountains throwing spray,<br/></span> <span class="i0">O’er the fishes at their play,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Geese and ducklings in the pond,<br/></span> <span class="i0">By the white swan chaperoned,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Grassy plots well trimmed and neat,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Decked with flowers, gay and sweet,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Trees and shrubs so sweetly blending<br/></span> <span class="i0">All its beauties never ending;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Fit place for the aged to talk<br/></span> <span class="i0">And for babes to learn to walk;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Wandering swains and straying madams,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Modern Eves and modern Adams;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Place where friend a friend may meet;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Lovers here each other greet,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And a groom and summer bride<br/></span> <span class="i0">On their honeymoon abide.<br/></span></div> </div></div> </div> <p><SPAN name="page_012" id="page_012"></SPAN></p> <h2><SPAN name="KEEP_THE_GARDENS_GROWING" id="KEEP_THE_GARDENS_GROWING"></SPAN>KEEP THE GARDENS GROWING<br/><br/> (1918)</h2> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">We were summoned from the play-ground,<br/></span> <span class="i0">We were called in from the wood,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And our country found us ready<br/></span> <span class="i0">At the stirring call for food.<br/></span> <span class="i0">Do not add unto our burden,<br/></span> <span class="i0">If you hap to pass along,<br/></span> <span class="i0">For, although our backs are breaking,<br/></span> <span class="i0">You can hear us sing this song:&mdash;<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i5">CHORUS<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Keep the gardens growing,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Digging, planting, hoeing;<br/></span> <span class="i0">If you plant and weed aright<br/></span> <span class="i0">The crop will grow.<br/></span> <span class="i0">Do not stand repining<br/></span> <span class="i0">While the sun is shining,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Turn the good soil inside out,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And fertilize and sow.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Mother Britain sent a message,<br/></span> <span class="i0">To her daughter in the West,<br/></span> <span class="i0">“We need every kind of food-stuffs,”<br/></span> <span class="i0">So we’re bound to do our best;<br/></span> <span class="i0">For the soldiers in the trenches<br/></span> <span class="i0">And the homeland we must feed,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And no worthy son will fail her,<br/></span> <span class="i0">When his mother is in need.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <p><SPAN name="page_013" id="page_013"></SPAN></p> <h2><SPAN name="AN_ELEGY_WRITTEN_IN_RICHMOND" id="AN_ELEGY_WRITTEN_IN_RICHMOND"></SPAN>AN ELEGY WRITTEN IN RICHMOND</h2> <h3>I</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Low in the eastern sky the breaking light<br/></span> <span class="i0">Pales in the vault of heaven the morning star,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Presaging me the dying hour of night,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And that the twilight gray is not afar;<br/></span></div> </div></div> <h3>II</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">For night is slowly changing into morn,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And through the gloom the forms of ships appear.<br/></span> <span class="i0">Across the Arm below, the bugle horn<br/></span> <span class="i0">Reveille’s call brings to my listening ear.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <h3>III</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">No other sound is on the morning air<br/></span> <span class="i0">To echo back from hills and dales around;<br/></span> <span class="i0">No home has man; no beast has here lair,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And desolation seems to own the ground;<br/></span></div> </div></div> <h3>IV</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Save me who sit beneath an aged elm<br/></span> <span class="i0">Which some one’s home at Richmond once did grace,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Ere fell misfortune did it overwhelm<br/></span> <span class="i0">And left this tree alone to mark the place.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <h3>V</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Yet here I am beneath this hoary tree<br/></span> <span class="i0">And ruminate upon the recent past&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">If such events again should hap to be&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">The ruins round their gloomy bodings cast.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <h3>VI</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">But still I sit amidst these scenes of death<br/></span> <span class="i0">Which call to mind that dire December day,<br/></span> <span class="i0">When Fate unkindly blew his blighting breath,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Reducing homes to dust, and men to clay.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <p><SPAN name="page_014" id="page_014"></SPAN></p> <h3>VII</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">And question thus: “Was there no law amiss?<br/></span> <span class="i0">Had no officials power to prevent<br/></span> <span class="i0">A devastation, dark and drear, as this?<br/></span> <span class="i0">Was Richmond’s loss naught but an accident?”<br/></span></div> </div></div> <h3>VIII</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">And in my breast a rising hate I feel<br/></span> <span class="i0">For man-made Laws which oft protect the High<br/></span> <span class="i0">And leave the Low their grievous wounds to heal<br/></span> <span class="i0">And bear their load of sorrow till they die.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <h3>IX</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">A sense of sadness passes through my soul,<br/></span> <span class="i0">An earthly grief akin to human-kind,<br/></span> <span class="i0">But ere this sorrow sad doth reach its goal<br/></span> <span class="i0">Celestial musings fill my troubled mind.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <h3>X</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">The hatred lately felt within my breast<br/></span> <span class="i0">And which I vainly thought naught could allay<br/></span> <span class="i0">Until my spirit passed to its last rest;<br/></span> <span class="i0">I surely find is speeding fast away.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <h3>XI</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Some Spirit sweet seems near to me abide<br/></span> <span class="i0">Who doth from me remove all earthly dread,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And in most soothing ways my senses chide<br/></span> <span class="i0">That I hold counsel with the living dead.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <h3>XII</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">I look around to see whose is the voice<br/></span> <span class="i0">Whose cadence falls so sweetly on my ear<br/></span> <span class="i0">As thus to make my hating heart rejoice,<br/></span> <span class="i0">But vain my quest, no living soul is near.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <p><SPAN name="page_015" id="page_015"></SPAN></p> <h3>XIII</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">A spirit voice I know, it needs must be<br/></span> <span class="i0">That sounds upon the air with silv’ry tone<br/></span> <span class="i0">And yet, withal, no fears arise in me,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Though midst the ruins here I am alone.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <h3>XIV</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">The voice now cautions me to listen well,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And in harmonious tones with lightning speed<br/></span> <span class="i0">This story he narrates for me to tell,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And thus I write it down that all may read.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <h3>XV</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“That fatal morn, when Richmond felt secure,<br/></span> <span class="i0">With many more I ran to yonder hill<br/></span> <span class="i0">To watch the burning ship, all feeling sure<br/></span> <span class="i0">That nothing round could do us harm or ill.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <h3>XVI</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“And why should aught around fill us with fears<br/></span> <span class="i0">Did we not know: The flag that braves the breeze<br/></span> <span class="i0">On land and sea for full one thousand years,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Flew o’er our city still and o’er our seas?<br/></span></div> </div></div> <h3>XVII</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“The scene was bright and beautiful and grand,<br/></span> <span class="i0">With florid streamers shooting far on high,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And none who viewed the scene from sea or land<br/></span> <span class="i0">Were cognizant they were so soon to die.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <h3>XVIII</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Whose was the fault is not for me to tell.&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">The Judge of All shall surely justice mete<br/></span> <span class="i0">To those who prematurely rang our knell<br/></span> <span class="i0">When they are come to His just judgement seat.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <p><SPAN name="page_016" id="page_016"></SPAN></p> <h3>XIX</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“You wonder why I wander ’neath the vault<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of heaven here and fain would ask&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">’Tis but to beg forgiveness of a fault<br/></span> <span class="i0">And do again another ill-done task.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <h3>XX</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Though young in life, in wisdom now I’m old,<br/></span> <span class="i0">For I’ve passed through the chast’ning purge of fire;<br/></span> <span class="i0">My harp, though silver now, will soon be gold,<br/></span> <span class="i0">When time has passed and I have mounted higher.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <h3>XXI</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Along the path with slow increasing pace<br/></span> <span class="i0">Into the realms of peace where all is light;<br/></span> <span class="i0">’Till I have reached my time allotted seat,<br/></span> <span class="i0">There, to enjoy the beatific sight.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <h3>XXII</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Of God for aye and His hosannas sing,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Amidst the saints of His twice chosen few,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Before the treble throne of God, our King,<br/></span> <span class="i0">The vision of whose glory’s ever new.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <h3>XXIII</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“The path is long, yet shorter may be made<br/></span> <span class="i0">By alms and prayers and other deeds of worth;<br/></span> <span class="i0">The happy day may, too, long be delayed<br/></span> <span class="i0">By thoughtless unforgiving hearts on earth.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <h3>XXIV</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Then do good deeds while in the flesh, my friend<br/></span> <span class="i0">And trespassers forgive, lest you forget<br/></span> <span class="i0">Such charity, till you have reached the end<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of life with some one unforgiven yet.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <p><SPAN name="page_017" id="page_017"></SPAN></p> <h3>XXV</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Take heed that you will e’er remember this,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Lest you, as others did so oft before,<br/></span> <span class="i0">May cross that cold and ever dark abyss<br/></span> <span class="i0">Which separates earth from the spirit shore.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <h3>XXVI</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Which lieth far beyond the farthest sun,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And trembling stand before high Heaven’s court<br/></span> <span class="i0">With unforgiven thought and task undone;<br/></span> <span class="i0">No camouflage to which you can resort.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <h3>XXVII</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Be ye a man of lore, unlearned or youth,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Will there, as here on earth, avail you aught;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Nor will forensic speech conceal the truth<br/></span> <span class="i0">In your account of deed and word and thought.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <h3>XXVIII</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“In stilly night I’ve often wandered here<br/></span> <span class="i0">Far from those realms beyond the starry sky,<br/></span> <span class="i0">O’er that long way, so lonely, dark and drear,<br/></span> <span class="i0">But now the hour of bliss for me draws nigh.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <h3>XXIX</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“For soon the pearly gates, which now bar me,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Through which the sainted souls have ever trod<br/></span> <span class="i0">Will open wide and I shall ever see<br/></span> <span class="i0">The pristine glory of the throne of God.”<SPAN name="page_018" id="page_018"></SPAN><br/></span></div> </div></div> <h2><SPAN name="THE_COTTAGE_SCHOOL" id="THE_COTTAGE_SCHOOL"></SPAN>THE COTTAGE SCHOOL.</h2> <h3>I</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Summer time was in the waning,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Vesper Sun was wending low,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And reminiscences brought me<br/></span> <span class="i2">Back to school days long ago<br/></span> <span class="i0">There the school-house stood before me,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And I was on hallowed ground,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Where each old association<br/></span> <span class="i2">Inspiration breathed around.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <h3>II</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Full in view the school was standing<br/></span> <span class="i2">Near the road and yet aloof,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Four square walls in ochre painted,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Topped off with a cottage roof.<br/></span> <span class="i0">In the distance old Atlantic<br/></span> <span class="i2">Glistened as in days of yore,<br/></span> <span class="i0">While upon his glimmering bosom,<br/></span> <span class="i2">White caps rolled towards the shore.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <h3>III</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">On the diamond boys were playing<br/></span> <span class="i2">Base-ball, with eclat and shout;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Saw the batter three times fanning,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Heard the umpire’s “Batter’s out.”<br/></span> <span class="i0">Saw some other hit a grounder,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Speed away like a winged bird;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Heard the rooters merry shouting,<br/></span> <span class="i2">As he landed safe on third.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <p><SPAN name="page_019" id="page_019"></SPAN></p> <h3>IV</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Heard the maidens merry laughter,<br/></span> <span class="i2">As they played upon the green,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And the rythm of their footfalls,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Skipping o’er the hard terrene,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Saw the little boys and maidens<br/></span> <span class="i2">Drinking at the nearby well:<br/></span> <span class="i0">And upon the air vibrating<br/></span> <span class="i2">Heard again the master’s bell.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <h3>V</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Plainly heard the foot-step sounding<br/></span> <span class="i2">On the floor with measured beats,<br/></span> <span class="i0">While the boys and girls were filing<br/></span> <span class="i2">Through the aisles towards their seats.<br/></span> <span class="i0">Saw the whole class sitting upright,<br/></span> <span class="i2">In position, one and all;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Heard distinctly “Here” and “Absent,”<br/></span> <span class="i2">Answered to the master’s call.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <h3>VI</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">I could see the master’s visage,<br/></span> <span class="i2">With its look of learned lore,<br/></span> <span class="i0">While Sol’s summer shadows lengthened<br/></span> <span class="i2">Slowly o’er the school house floor;<br/></span> <span class="i0">O’er his head there hung a motto<br/></span> <span class="i2">With the words, “God Bless Our School”<br/></span> <span class="i0">Standing in the left-hand corner<br/></span> <span class="i2">Was the oft-used Dunces’ stool.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <h3>VII</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Heard him from the Holy Bible<br/></span> <span class="i2">Read from some New Testament,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And to each and every passage,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Young and old, attention lent.<br/></span> <span class="i0">Heard once more the school repeating<br/></span> <span class="i2">Earnestly the Saviour’s prayer,<br/></span> <span class="i0">While around a holy stillness<br/></span> <span class="i2">Floated on the ev’ning air.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <p><SPAN name="page_020" id="page_020"></SPAN></p> <h3>VIII</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Saw the school take first position<br/></span> <span class="i2">At the sound of warning gong,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Heard the master’s voice intoning<br/></span> <span class="i2">Some old school or college song;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Saw all in position standing<br/></span> <span class="i2">With demeanour calm and still;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Saw them going through the movements<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of the military drill.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <h3>IX</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">On the walls the maps were hanging,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Colored in blue, red and gold,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Ornamented with the pictures<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of the noted men of old.<br/></span> <span class="i0">Moral maxims, plainly written<br/></span> <span class="i2">On the board in plain relief,<br/></span> <span class="i0">“Order Is First Law of Heaven,”<br/></span> <span class="i2">With some others terse and brief.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <h3>X</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Summaries of all the home-work<br/></span> <span class="i2">By to-morrow to be learned;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Saw, too, some make interchanges<br/></span> <span class="i2">When the master’s back was turned.<br/></span> <span class="i0">On their slates the younger pupils<br/></span> <span class="i2">Strove to make their cranes and hooks,<br/></span> <span class="i0">While the older ones were busy<br/></span> <span class="i2">Writing in their copy books.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <h3>XI</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Heard them spell and give the meaning,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And pronounce in unison;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Heard them too, in concert reading,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Reading also, one by one.<br/></span> <span class="i0">Saw them, on the Black-board, parsing<br/></span> <span class="i2">With and without formal line;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Use of “a” and “n” explaining<br/></span> <span class="i2">“These” and “those” and “thy” and “thine.”<SPAN name="page_021" id="page_021"></SPAN><br/></span></div> </div></div> <h3>XII</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Heard them drill at combinations,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Learn to multiply and add,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Now subtracting, now dividing,&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i2">Doing as the master bade;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Saw them on the map locating<br/></span> <span class="i2">Chiefest places of the earth;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Heard them give events in History,<br/></span> <span class="i2">’Fore and since our Saviour’s birth.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <h3>XIII</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Heard them, too, at Nature lessons,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Saw the card within their hands,<br/></span> <span class="i0">With the Flora and the Fauna<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of our own and other lands;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Heard the master talk on Civics,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And our duties to the State,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And on Etiquette and Hygiene,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Heard him, too, at length dilate.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <h3>XIV</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Not an incident was missing<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of those school days long since fled,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Though so many of its members<br/></span> <span class="i2">Now were numbered with the dead.<br/></span> <span class="i0">And too swiftly passed the vision<br/></span> <span class="i2">Retrospective of the past,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And upon my soul its setting<br/></span> <span class="i2">Fleeting specks of sadness cast.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <p><SPAN name="page_022" id="page_022"></SPAN></p> <h2><SPAN name="DECEMBER_SIXTH_1917" id="DECEMBER_SIXTH_1917"></SPAN>DECEMBER SIXTH, 1917.</h2> <h3>I</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">It was a clear and cool December dawn,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And bright the Sun in all his glory rose<br/></span> <span class="i0">And shed his radiant rays in plenty on<br/></span> <span class="i0">The lovely arm which by our city flows,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And on the hills and dales and distant trees<br/></span> <span class="i0">By Nature robed in early winter mien:<br/></span> <span class="i0">All Labour was awake; the docks and quays<br/></span> <span class="i0">Were all astir and formed a busy scene;<br/></span> <span class="i0">The flag flung to the breeze o’er Citadel<br/></span> <span class="i0">Gave heart to all: last night the sentry cried,<br/></span> <span class="i0">As o’er his beat he trod, that all was well,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And old and young thought but of Christmas-tide.<br/></span> <span class="i0">“Lord God of Hosts,” what is that awful roar<br/></span> <span class="i0">Upon all ears rolls from the Richmond shore;<br/></span></div> </div></div> <h3>II</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">I’ll ever hear that death-portending sound<br/></span> <span class="i0">And see the dead as side by side they lie,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And see the desolation wrought around<br/></span> <span class="i0">And hear the dying’s dissolution cry;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And see the houses bursting into flame<br/></span> <span class="i0">And those within consumed in tongues of fire,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And that long line of young, and old, and lame<br/></span> <span class="i0">Move slowly on when ordered to retire<br/></span> <span class="i0">From their wrecked homes to seek some safe retreat.<br/></span> <span class="i0">With falt’ring step and slow and wearied gait;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And see the motor cars whirl down the street<br/></span> <span class="i0">Full laden with their bloody, human freight:<br/></span> <span class="i0">For not, till in my breast the spirit dies<br/></span> <span class="i0">Will these sad scenes evanish from my eyes.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <p><SPAN name="page_023" id="page_023"></SPAN></p> <h3>III</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">And ever see the op’ning hour of school,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And hear the bell sound on the morning air,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And see each little one with reticule<br/></span> <span class="i0">And well-trained poise and step assembling there,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And each pale-faced teacher in her place<br/></span> <span class="i0">And all the children there on bended knees,<br/></span> <span class="i0">With innocence imprinted on each face,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And hear their prayer borne on the morning breeze,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And hear the glass and falling timbers crash,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And see the children through the windows leap<br/></span> <span class="i0">With blood fast flowing from each gaping gash<br/></span> <span class="i0">Upon their heads and faces, long and deep;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And fain am I to fall into despair<br/></span> <span class="i0">That scenes so sad should follow children’s prayer.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <h3>IV</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">And ever see the blinded lying low<br/></span> <span class="i0">At Bellevue, Camp Hill, and College Hall;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And ever see the corpses, row on row,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Their mangled faces covered with a pall:<br/></span> <span class="i0">And curses such as tongue could never speak<br/></span> <span class="i0">Rise in my heart and flutter through my mind<br/></span> <span class="i0">Upon the man who did such ruin wreak<br/></span> <span class="i0">And leave such grief and misery behind;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And then a change comes o’er my angry thought<br/></span> <span class="i0">And I can see outlined upon the Cross<br/></span> <span class="i0">The Man of Sorrows, and I think of what<br/></span> <span class="i0">He did that Death be not our loss;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And bowing down I cry on bended knee<br/></span> <span class="i0">My Lord, my God, I yet have faith in Thee.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <p><SPAN name="page_024" id="page_024"></SPAN></p> <h2><SPAN name="LIFE_IS_BUT_ONE_DARN_THING_AFTER_ANOTHER" id="LIFE_IS_BUT_ONE_DARN_THING_AFTER_ANOTHER"></SPAN>LIFE IS BUT ONE DARN THING AFTER ANOTHER.</h2> <h3>I</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Whether in childhood or when you grow older,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Whether in summer or when it grows colder,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Whether in sunshine or lightning and thunder,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Be it on land or sea over or under,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Whether winter frosts freeze you or summer heat smother,<br/></span> <span class="i0">This you will find until life’s cord will sunder,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Life is but one darn thing after another.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <h3>II</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Whether you cry from grief or smile with laughter,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Think of the present or past or hereafter,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Whether you’re rooming or whether house-keeping,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Sewing or darning or dusting or sweeping,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Dreaming of yours or some other girl’s brother,<br/></span> <span class="i0">This you will find whether waking or sleeping,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Life is but one darn thing after another.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <h3>III</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">If you have peace of mind or if you worry,<br/></span> <span class="i0">If things move slowly or if in a hurry,<br/></span> <span class="i0">If you make hasty steps or if you tarry,<br/></span> <span class="i0">If you stay single or if you marry,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Whether you barren be, whether a mother,<br/></span> <span class="i0">This you will find whate’er hap or miscarry,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Life is but one darn thing after another.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <p><SPAN name="page_025" id="page_025"></SPAN></p> <h2><SPAN name="COURCELLETTE" id="COURCELLETTE"></SPAN>COURCELLETTE.</h2> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Early on an autumn morning,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Facing famous Courcellette,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Lay the Twenty-fifth battalion,<br/></span> <span class="i2">In the trenches damp and wet;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Far away from home and kindred,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Near the far-famed river Somme,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Here and there a man lay dying,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Stricken by a shell or bomb.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Men of every trade and calling,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of each company formed a part,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Downy youth and bearded manhood<br/></span> <span class="i2">From the farm and from the mart,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Miners, farmers, sailors, tradesmen,<br/></span> <span class="i2">From each hamlet, town and glen,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Born of Nova Scotian mothers<br/></span> <span class="i2">From the breed of manly men.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">All alert and ever watching,<br/></span> <span class="i2">On the guard both day and night,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Each one ever his part doing,<br/></span> <span class="i2">In the struggle for the right;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Thinking always of the homeland<br/></span> <span class="i2">Far away in Acadie,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of a mother, wife, or sister<br/></span> <span class="i2">Whom they never more might see.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">On the high hills overlooking,<br/></span> <span class="i2">All the country down below,<br/></span> <span class="i2">In their deep concreted dugouts,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Lay the ever watchful foe;<br/></span> <span class="i0">With artillery commanding<br/></span> <span class="i0">All the hills for miles around,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Through which, like a thread of silver,<br/></span> <span class="i2">River Somme its free way wound.<SPAN name="page_026" id="page_026"></SPAN><br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">There were Saxons and Bavarians<br/></span> <span class="i2">In the Hun’s embattled host,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And the fierce and bloody Uhlans<br/></span> <span class="i2">Whom the Kaiser loves to toast;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Where they stood in close formation<br/></span> <span class="i2">Like a solid human block<br/></span> <span class="i0">Fronted by the famous fighters<br/></span> <span class="i2">Called the troops of battle shock.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">When upon the morn in question,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Just about the break of day,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Word the Twenty-fifth was given<br/></span> <span class="i2">To make ready for the fray;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And they sprang up from their trenches<br/></span> <span class="i2">Like the wild lynx with a bound,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And they rushed without a falter<br/></span> <span class="i2">Right across the barrage ground;<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">And they fell upon the Germans<br/></span> <span class="i2">Like an avalanche of hail,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And the Teutons bent before them<br/></span> <span class="i2">Like the grain before the gale.<br/></span> <span class="i0">And with irresisting fury<br/></span> <span class="i2">They assailed the faltering Hun,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And before the day was over<br/></span> <span class="i2">Famous Courcellette was won.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Then let mothers tell their babies<br/></span> <span class="i2">Whom they nurse upon their breasts,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And the teachers tell the children<br/></span> <span class="i2">In our schools from east to west,<br/></span> <span class="i0">How at Courcellette’s fierce battle,<br/></span> <span class="i2">An undying name was made<br/></span> <span class="i0">By the Twenty-fifth battalion<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of the fighting fifth brigade.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <p><SPAN name="page_027" id="page_027"></SPAN></p> <h2><SPAN name="VIMY_RIDGE" id="VIMY_RIDGE"></SPAN>VIMY RIDGE.</h2> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i2">For days the cannon roaring<br/></span> <span class="i2">With loud incessant peal,<br/></span> <span class="i2">The terrane and the trenches<br/></span> <span class="i23">Had torn with lead and steel;<br/></span> <span class="i2">Which told the boys in khaki<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of fighting near at hand,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And eagerly all waited<br/></span> <span class="i23">The long wished for command.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i2">Within the first line trenches,<br/></span> <span class="i23">The highland laddies lay,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Their thoughts were of their mothers<br/></span> <span class="i23">Or sweethearts far away;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Each one of them was thinking<br/></span> <span class="i23">Of home and native sod,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And like a Christian soldier<br/></span> <span class="i23">Had made his peace with God.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i2">The morn broke dark and stormy<br/></span> <span class="i23">With hail and snow and sleet,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Which made for many soldiers<br/></span> <span class="i23">Ere night, their winding sheet;<br/></span> <span class="i2">The shrapnel bits were flying,<br/></span> <span class="i23">Like swarms of summer midge,<br/></span> <span class="i2">When Borden’s highland laddies<br/></span> <span class="i3">Charged up the Vimy Ridge.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i2">On the top of this famed mountain,<br/></span> <span class="i3">Nearby the city Lens,<br/></span> <span class="i2">The enemy in dugouts<br/></span> <span class="i23">Lay like lions in their dens;<br/></span> <span class="i0">The mountain strong by nature,<br/></span> <span class="i23">The Germans stronger made<br/></span> <span class="i2">With cannon and with mortar,<br/></span> <span class="i23">On concrete bases laid.<SPAN name="page_028" id="page_028"></SPAN><br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">And thousands of machine guns,<br/></span> <span class="i2">In their allotted place,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And thousands of their snipers,<br/></span> <span class="i2">With rifle and with brace;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And lines of barbed wire fencing<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of every strength and size,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And aught else which their science<br/></span> <span class="i2">Or cunning could devise.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Their seeming sense of safety,<br/></span> <span class="i2">The Teutons did elate,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And all were glibly chanting<br/></span> <span class="i2">The Kaiser’s hymn of hate,<br/></span> <span class="i0">When, lo! the pibroch’s skirling<br/></span> <span class="i2">Their first line did astound<br/></span> <span class="i0">And Donald, Rod and Angus<br/></span> <span class="i2">Came on them with a bound.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">And ere they had recovered<br/></span> <span class="i2">From their astonishment<br/></span> <span class="i0">The foremost of their gleemen<br/></span> <span class="i2">To sing elsewhere were sent;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And midst the cry of Kam’rade<br/></span> <span class="i2">In broken English spoke,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Both Prussian and Bavarian<br/></span> <span class="i2">Went down from bayonet stroke.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">And furious was the struggle,<br/></span> <span class="i2">’Twixt Highlander and Hun,<br/></span> <span class="i0">For hand to hand the fighting<br/></span> <span class="i2">On Vimy Ridge was done.<br/></span> <span class="i0">The shock troops of the Kaiser,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And all his proud array,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Fled fast before the Bluenose<br/></span> <span class="i2">On that eventful day.<SPAN name="page_029" id="page_029"></SPAN><br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">And when the war is over,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And peace again is come,<br/></span> <span class="i0">We’ll give our gallant laddies<br/></span> <span class="i2">A highland welcome home;<br/></span> <span class="i0">With flags and banners waving,<br/></span> <span class="i2">With singing and with cheer,<br/></span> <span class="i0">We’ll celebrate the glory<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of Vimy day each year.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <p class="figcenter"><ANTIMG src="images/decoration.png" width-obs="70" height-obs="16" alt="decoration of text" title="" /></p> <h2><SPAN name="GOD_SAVE_OUR_EMPIRE_GREAT" id="GOD_SAVE_OUR_EMPIRE_GREAT"></SPAN>GOD SAVE OUR EMPIRE GREAT.</h2> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">God save our empire great,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And to her board of state,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Wise Counsel bring;<br/></span> <span class="i0">May we in union free,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Mother and daughters be,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Ever one family:<br/></span> <span class="i2">God save the king.<br/></span> <span class="i0">Grant that there will arise,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Beneath Canadian skies,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Freedom’s offspring;<br/></span> <span class="i0">May we be always free,<br/></span> <span class="i2">From hate and bigotry,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Co-heirs of liberty:<br/></span> <span class="i2">God save the king.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <p><SPAN name="page_030" id="page_030"></SPAN></p> <h2><SPAN name="THE_VETERAN" id="THE_VETERAN"></SPAN>THE VETERAN</h2> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">A veteran too was there with shoulders broad<br/></span> <span class="i0">As is the marsh in Amherst’s neighborhood;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of stature high and of a kingly stride,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And in his face there shone a noble pride.<br/></span> <span class="i0">His eyes bespoke a soul to never yield<br/></span> <span class="i0">In fair fought fight at home or battle field.<br/></span> <span class="i0">A civic man before the war began<br/></span> <span class="i0">And since its end again a civic man.<br/></span> <span class="i0">Beloved by all his comrades, young and old,<br/></span> <span class="i0">For wise decisions and for action bold;<br/></span> <span class="i0">His head was cool but kindly was his heart,<br/></span> <span class="i0">In every act of war he did his part&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">In digging in to use the lowly spade,<br/></span> <span class="i0">In battle field to wield the bloody blade,<br/></span> <span class="i0">In trench, in rest, to eat the soldiers’ fare,<br/></span> <span class="i0">A man of manly breed, his wounds to bear.<br/></span> <span class="i0">Three years he served where colored poppies grow<br/></span> <span class="i0">Between the wooden “crosses, row on row,”<br/></span> <span class="i0">Observing all, so well could tell a tale<br/></span> <span class="i3">of Bourlon Wood or bloody Pachendaele.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <p><SPAN name="transcrib" id="transcrib"></SPAN></p> <table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="" style="padding:2%;border:3px dotted gray;"> <tr><th align="center">Typographical errors corrected by the etext transcriber:</th></tr> <tr><td align="center">An Elegy Writtne in Richmond=> An Elegy Written in Richmond</td></tr> <tr><td align="center">Burnihing in colors=> Burnishing in colors</td></tr> <tr><td align="center">now ’Im old=> now I’m old</td></tr> <tr><td align="center">The Tuetons did elate=> The Teutons did elate</td></tr> <tr><td align="center">Of lovliness divine=> Of loveliness divine</td></tr> <tr><td align="center">perfect ecastasy=> perfect ecstasy</td></tr> <tr><td align="center">A sweet momoriam for aye=> A sweet memoriam for aye</td></tr> </table> <p class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/back.jpg" width-obs="331" height-obs="500" alt="" title="" /></p> <hr class="full" /> <SPAN name="endofbook"></SPAN> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />