I slumbered with your poems on my breast Spread open as I dropped them half read through Like dove wings on a figure on a tomb To see, if, in a dream they brought of you, I might not have the chance I missed in life Through some delay, and call you to your face First soldier, and then poet, and then both, Who died a soldier-poet of your race. I meant, you meant, that nothing should remain Unsaid between us, brother, and this remained -- And one thing more that was not then to say: The Victory for what it lost and gained. You went to meet the shell's embrace of fire On Vimy Ridge; and when you fell that day The war seemed over more for you than me, But now for me than you -- the other way. How over, though, for even me who knew The foe thrust back unsafe beyond the Rhine, If I was not to speak of it to you And see you pleased once more with words of mine? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WAY TO ARCADY by HENRY CUYLER BUNNER SPARKLING AND BRIGHT by CHARLES FENNO HOFFMAN MORITURI SALUTAMUS [WE WHO ARE TO DIE SALUTE YOU] by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW ODES: BOOK 2: ODE 11. TO THE COUNTRY GENTLEMEN OF ENGLAND by MARK AKENSIDE WINTER MOUNTAIN by MARIANA BACHMAN SONNET TO NICHOLAS BLACKLEECH OF GRAYES INNE by RICHARD BARNFIELD |