SOLDIERS AT PEACE.
GRIEVE not for these, whose still unfading spring
Is graven deep in England's memory : Grieve not for these, who have no perishing Hang high their swords in churches greatly spanned, Hang high the bayonets of Liberty !
So shall their children's children understand, Seeing those rusted blades, how fair and free This England was, and what men walked the land.
The soldiers' peace of their imagining,
Folding the gallant hearts, the silent wills,
Has fallen on their youth,—as lustre shed On the calm summits of the rain-washed hills, When all the valley streams are glimmering, And all the stars are tranquil overhead. H. A.