Poor Lucy never laughed much after that. Half-captured happiness had left a scar, A hidden woman's heritage of war Seared in her tired heart. All day she sat Finding a thousand foolish things to do, Little loving things, inconsequential, But she had lost, you see, the one essential Thing in life, which changed her point of view. And Lucy said, "They will remember Jim, When I am trodden dust his very name Will be a watchword and a battle hymn, An inspiration and a secret flame." So musing she would smile, a little sadly, And then continue knitting, rather badly. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VILLANELLE OF CHANGE by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON THE FIGHT OF THE ARMSTRONG PRIVATEER by JAMES JEFFREY ROCHE CANE: NOVEMBER COTTON FLOWER by JEAN TOOMER A LOVE-MESSAGE by LILLIAN CORBETT BARNES GREENES FUNERALLS: SONNET 5 by RICHARD BARNFIELD RECOGNITION by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE THE WODDSY ONES by ABBIE FARWELL BROWN |