Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE COMMON SICK, by LOUISE TOWNSEND NICHOLL


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE COMMON SICK, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: All we had heard was of wounded men
Last Line: Just to live and die.)
Subject(s): Sickness; Illness


All we had heard was of wounded men,
Of life which is crude and quick;
And then we came to the wards again,
To the plain, common sick.

(There is no splendor in their pain --
This is not new nor high --
Unless it be a splendid thing
Just to live and die.)

All through the years of fighting
These sick have been in bed.
They have not heard the shrapnel --
But silences instead.

Some are dulled with pain. They moan
And do not think of war.
And some lie still with quiet eyes
And hands, just as before.

Life is within the walls to them --
They live as a mystic would,
Holding it softly in their hands.
Who knows if they find it good?

From living they are very far,
Behind this veil of pain,
From joy and work and the spoken word
And dawn and fragrant rain;

But still they feel Life stirring, stirring,
The days come and go.
Life bare and stark and still like this
Only the sick can know.

This is sheer existence,
And a silence which stirs with truth.
All things merge to one -- death
And life, and age and youth.

Here thought is a slow, divining thing,
Slow as the sea on stone.
Not made "by art or men's device"
Are the creeds they have shaped alone.

Would they care to play a game of sides,
If they could rise and fight,
When they know that all things made are one --
All Life, and day and night?

(There is no splendor in their pain --
This is not new nor high --
Unless it be a splendid thing
Just to live and die.)





Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!


Other Poems of Interest...
Home: PoetryExplorer.net