HERE in the marshland, past the battered bridge, One of a hundred grains untimely sown, Here, with his comrades of the hard-won ridge, He rests, unknown. His horoscope had seemed so plainly drawn,— School triumphs, earned apace in work and play; Friendships at will; then love's delightful dawn And mellowing day; Home fostering hope; some service to the State; Benignant age; then the long tryst to keep Where in the yew-tree shadow congregate His fathers sleep. Was here the one thing needful to distil From life's alembic, through this holier fate, The man's essential soul, the hero will? We ask; and wait. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SIC VITA by HENRY KING (1592-1669) TO THE MOON (1) by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY BALLAD by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH SONNET: 'EVEN THIS WILL PASS AWAY' by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH LAMENT OF MARY, QUEEN OF SCOTS, ON THE APPROACH OF SPRING by ROBERT BURNS EXIT NIGHTINGALE by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON THE TRYST OF THE NIGHT by MAY (MARY) CLARISSA GILLINGTON BYRON |