PAGE
H. S. T.—Requiescat[11]
The Dead Comrade[12]
The Choice[14]
The House by the Highway[15]
Night in the Suburbs, August, 1914[17]
Autumn Wind[19]
The Battle of the Rivers[20]
A Legend of Ypres[21]
Ecce Homo![22]
April Nights[23]
Rupert Brooke. April, 1915[24]
The Last Evening[25]
The Letter[27]
Frigga. (Up to date)[28]
Farewells à la Mode[29]
Sunset[30]
Sursum Corda[31]
Lying in State[32]
Wind-pedlars[33]
Dulce et Decorum?[35]
Succory[36]
Dreams Trespassing[37]
"What shall be done with all these tears of ours?"[38]
In Hereford Cathedral[39]
Poppyfields[40]
Artificial Light[43]
Epitaph on a Child left Buried Abroad[46]
Veronica[47]
Moonlight[48]
Waking[49]
Feather Boats[50]
The Lovers' Walk[52]

Poems

H. S. T.
Requiescat

WE were bereft ere we were well aware
Of all our precious fears, and had instead
A hopeless safety, a secure despair.
We know that fate dealt kindly with our dead,
Tenderer to that fair face we held so dear
Than unto many another's best beloved.
Whate'er befall, we know him far removed
From all the weary labours of last year,
And even in paying this most bitter price
We know the cause worthy the sacrifice.
Now he is safe from any further ill,
Nor toils in peril while at ease we sit,
Yet bides our loss in thinking of him still,—
Of sombre eyes, by sudden laughter lit,
Darkened till all the eternal stars shall wane;
And lost the incommunicable lore
Of cunning fingers ne'er to limn again
And restless hands at rest for ever more.