The heart because it is not you who bring
Your Master to its lips.
Here let us leave the things you would not have—
Vain grief and sorrow useless to be shown—
“God’s gift and the Community’s I gave
And nothing of my own,”
You would have said, self-deemed of no more worth
That then green hands that guard a poppy’s grace—
Blows the eternal flower and back to earth
Tumbles the withered case.