And with the dawn came action, and again
The spiteful interplay of static war:
Dogged, with grim persistence Blood and Pain
Rose venomous to greet the Morning Star.
But others watched that lonely sentinel
Chase fleeting fellow-stars before the day;
Fresh men heard tides of thunder ebb and flow.
—Stumbling in sleep, scarce heeding shot or shell,
The men who fought at Gommecourt filed away:
The poppies nodded as they passed below.
They left the barren wilderness behind,
And Gommecourt gnarled and dauntless, till they came
To fields where trees unshattered took the wind,
Which tossed the crimson poppy heads to flame.
But one stood musing at a waking thought
That spurred his blood and dimmed his searching eyes—
The primal thought that stirs the seed to birth.
Here where the battling nations clashed and fought
The common grass still breathed of Paradise
And Love with silent lips was Lord of Earth.
A VISION
Before the dawn wind swept the troubled sky
And stirred the stricken trenches far and wide,
I saw the Lord of Holiness pass by,
With Mary at His side.
With Mary Michael passed, for I could hear
His clashing arms, and see his spangled sword.
Loudly I cried out, “Mother!” then in fear,
“O Mother of our Lord.”
For in her eyes all human sorrow burned,
All tenderness lay naked when she smiled;
And once she stooped to kiss, and once she turned
And shuddered like a child.
He moved through all the surge and clash of war,
The King of Kings since Brotherhood began;
But in His still and shadowed face I saw
The agony of Man.
And as I gazed, the ruined fields of France
Loomed to the dawn in shades of shifting grey;
Dumbly I stood to arms, as in a trance
I watched the climbing day.
Was this a dream? Yet Mary saw the sky,
Lit by a vision from the darkness hurled;
A little dream which made a baby cry—
A dream which saved the world.