And the sky with banners is all afloat,

And the streets of my city rock like a boat

With the tramp of her men come home?

I shall crouch by the door till the bolt is down,

And then go in to my dead.

Where my husband fell I will put a stone,

And mother a child instead of my own,

And stand and laugh on my bare hearth-stone

When the King rides by, she said.

BATTLE SLEEP
[1915]