Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, A SONG OF HOME-COMING, by MARGARET LOUISA WOODS


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

A SONG OF HOME-COMING, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Dark and cold on the far battle-field
Last Line: O let the laurel grow there!
Alternate Author Name(s): Woods, Mrs. Margaret Louisa Bradley
Subject(s): Battleships; Homecoming; Memory; Mourning; Peace; Soldiers; War; War Injuries; Bereavement


DARK and cold on the far battle-field
My comrades' blood is lying.
Cover their grave with the laurel sheen,
O let the laurel grow there!
Dark and cold is the blood that was shed,
But the blood in my heart is warm and red,
To the rapid drum it oft replies,
And swiftly must it flow there.

Dawn and dark on the far battle-field
Shall find their grave left lonely;
But rivers wide around it sweep
And ever gently fold them.

For the shining rivers that round them sweep
Are flowing salt and warm and deep,
Unbeheld of human eyes—
O eyes of God behold them!

Sound is their sleep on the lone battle-field
Who have finished their work and are weary,
And sighing ghosts on shroudy wings
That grieve there do not grieve them.
Mourning ghosts that have wandered far
Where a blind wind blows under many a star,
Spirits of pain whose peace is o'er—
O peace of God receive them!

Comrades we sailed for the far battle-field,
We stood on the ship together,
To the mighty voice of a people's pride
A prouder voice returning;
And brave eyes smiled on us, dim with pain,
Where the long quay roared in a blur of rain.
Sombre ships return no more,
To bring the brave eyes mourning!

My comrades lie on the lone battle-field,
And the racing ships run homeward.
Cover their grave with the laurel sheen!
But the banners are dancing o'er us.
The banners are dancing my heart above,
They are talking together of joy and love.
O life that is snatched out of death is sweet,
And good the years before us!

Wait us awhile on the far battle-field,
Till the phantom years have faded,
All, all forgotten, the sweet time and sad,
Homeward to you we shall wander.
Far away our dust may lie,
Under the stone or under the sky,
But one by one we shall muster and meet
In the camp of our memory yonder.

Life and Death from the lone battle-field
As a vapour at morn shall be lifted,
All be forgot save the due that we paid
And the day that our country remembers.
In the hour of her need, for the battle of doom
She will summon her dead, we shall rise from the tomb,
Our banners shall beacon her sons and the flame,
Of her watch-fires be lit from our embers.

Late or soon on a wide battle-field
We comrades all shall be lying.
Cover our graves with the laurel sheen,
O let the laurel grow there!





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