Acanthus and Wild Grape

O ye who watch and wait, the night is long.
A curtain of spun fire and woven gloom
Across the mighty tragedy is drawn.
But soon your ears shall hear a triumph song,
And golden light shall touch each sacred tomb,
And voices shout at last--The Dawn! The Dawn.

AUGUST, 1916.

GONE WEST

_Dedicated to Lieutenant Rodolphe Lemieux, killed in action August 29, 1918._

I do not think of them--our glorious dead--
As laying tired heads upon the breast
Of a kind mother to be lulled to rest;
I do not see them in a narrow bed
Of alien earth by their own blood dyed red,
But see in their own simple phrase--Gone West--
The words of knights upon a holy quest,
Who saw the light and followed where it led.

Gone West! Scarred warrior hosts go marching by,