Upon the good I render
Let shine your proudest sun:
And rest me in the valleys
When my last trick is done.
For these your utmost portions,
I’ll pay the utmost toll,
So this my life, become the great
Adventure of my soul!
TO THE WRITER OF “CHRIST IN FLANDERS”
E. M. V.
in The Spectator
ON the battlefields of Flanders men have blessed you in their pain;
For you told us Who was with us, and your words were not in vain.
All you said was very gentle, but we felt you knew our ways;
And we tried to find the Footprints we had missed in other days.
When we found Those blood-stained Footsteps, we have followed to the End;
For we know that only Death can show the features of our Friend.
In the Mansions of the Master, He will make the meaning plain
Of the battlefields of Flanders, of the Crucifix of Pain.
TO SOMEBODY
HAROLD SETON
in Munsey’s Magazine