POETRY.
TO THE LIVING FROM THE DEAD.
WE who were once such men as you are, brothers,
Have one last word for you ere we are sped Upon our journey through the silent spaces, The dim and shadowy places of the dead.
Scarce can the souls of mortal men discover Strength to disperse the veil 'twixt us and you, Yet we, by this desire that lies within us
To speak that word, have rent that veil in two.
We fought and fighting fell in France and Flanders; Giving all we possessed to stem the flood, The hellish flood of hell-inspired barbarians Who sought to win the world through seas of blood.
We penned it in and checked IL- for a moment, Seeing through sweat as we lay down to die The first mad surges ebb, but also hearing Thunder of greater surges down the sky.
We know that all we did was very little Towards the sure safeguarding of our race, And, knowing that, we cry now from the darkness This last appeal—Go you, and take our place I J. P. A. W.
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