Dedication
To CHRISTOPHER
Killed, Suvla Bay, October 6th, 1915.

At Suvla when a sickening curse of sound
Came hurtling from the shrapnel-shaken skies,
Without a word you shuddered to the ground
And with a gesture hid your darkening eyes.
You are not blind to-day—
But were we blind before you went away?

Forgive us then, if, faltering, we fail
To speak in terms articulate of you;
Now Death’s celestial journeymen unveil
Your naked soul—the soul we hardly knew.
O beauty scarce unfurled,
Your blood shall help to purify the world.

Awakened now, no longer we believe
Knight-errantry a myth of long ago.
Let us not shame your happiness and grieve;
All close we feel you live and move, we know
Your life shall ever be
Close to our lives enshrined eternally.

CONTENTS

[From “W” Beach][3]
[A Prayer][5]
[Fallen][6]
[The Turkish Trench Dog][7]
[The Sentinel][9]
[Mudros after the Evacuation][12]
[The Dead Turk][18]
[Missing][17]
[Two Trench Poems][22]
[Gommecourt][24]
[A Vision][31]
[Revelation][33]
[Tell me, Stranger][34]
[Spring in the Trenches][36]
[On the Road][38]
[Keats, before Action][41]
[The Somme][42]
[Somme Flower Talk][46]
[To the Uttermost Farthing][48]
[In the Mess][53]
[A Trench Incident][54]
[Reality][55]
[“We Poets of the Proud Old Lineage”][56]
[Song][59]
[The Shadow][60]
[Everychild][62]
[Child of the Flowing Tide][64]
[Eight Sonnets][66]
[Keats][74]
[Meeting Her in the Street][75]
[Her Homage][76]
[Reaction][77]
[April][78]
[May-June][79]
[The Strolling Singer][80]
[The French Mother to Her Unborn Child ][87]