IN the face of death, they say, he joked—he had no fear; His comrades, when they laid him in a Flanders grave, Wrote on a rough-hewn cross—a Calvary stood near— "Without a fear he gave "His life, cheering his men, with laughter on his lips." So wrote they, mourning him. Yet was there only one Who fully understood his laughter, his gay quips, One only, she alone— She who, not so long since, when love was new-confest, Herself toyed with light laughter while her eyes were dim, And jested, while with reverence despite her jest She worshipped God and him. She knew—O Love, O Death!—his soul had been at grips With the most solemn things. For @3she,@1 was @3she@1 not dear? Yes, he was brave, most brave, with laughter on his lips, The braver for his fear! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AFTER TWO YEARS by RICHARD ALDINGTON POOR DEVIL! by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET TO A MOTH SEEN IN WINTER by ROBERT FROST VICTORY IN DEFEAT by EDWIN MARKHAM DOMESDAY BOOK: AT FAIRBANKS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS DEDICATION TO THE LATER SONNETS TO URANIA by GEORGE SANTAYANA |