A CONFESSION OF FAITH
Who would remember me were I to die,
Remember with a pang and yet no pain;
Remember as a friend, and feel good-bye
Said at each memory as it wakes again?
I would not that a single heart should ache—
That some dear heart will ache is my one grief.
Friends, if I have them, I would fondly take
With me that best of gifts, a friend’s belief.
I have believed, and for my faith reaped tares;
Believed again, and, losing, was content;
A heart perchance touched blindly, unawares,
Rewards with friendship faith thus freely spent.
Bury the body—it has served its ends;
Mark not the spot, but “On Gallipoli,”
Let it be said, “he died.” Oh, Hearts of Friends,
If I am worth it, keep my memory.
Capt. James Sprent,
A.M.C. (attached 3rd Field Amb.).