This is an extract from “The Soul”:
“And lo, it seems I am with my mother,
Crossing a field of battle.
They are burying a brother-in-arms at noon,
While the sentinels are snatching a meal.”
The same strain is found in this bit from “The Hospital”:
“All the lovely green rushes of the banks are in flames
And a boat full of wounded men is tossing in the moonlight!
All the king’s daughters are out in a boat in the storm!
And the princesses are dying in a field of hemlock!”