Then we will sail on all the seas
That poets can recite,
And stand beside another lad,
And watch with him at night.
THE SOLDIER AND THE SAMOVAR
They shot him as he left the house
And stripped him in the snow
But still he held the samovar
And would not let it go.
Who knows from what fine home he came
With afternoons at tea?
If I had been that lonely lad,
They would have shot at me.
For I’d have run as desperately
Behind some log to settle,
And sit me down beside my theft,
The big, old Russian kettle.
But dead he lies; the snow piles high
And winter fills the land,
And only spring will move the thing
And take it from his hand.
NOCTURNE
Beside you while you slumbered, lad,
My restless heart had lain
Through all the hours of the night
Aware of love and pain.
Aware of love and morning’s light
And eyes that must betray
When someday you should look in mine
Then ever look away.
I’ll come to where you slumber, lad,
If death shall mark me not
And say the prayer that now I pray,
And thought I had forgot.