ON London fell a clearer light;
Caressing pencils of the sun
Defined the distances, the white
Houses, transfigured one by one,
The " long, unlovely street " impearled.
O what a sky has walked the world!
Most happy year! And out of town
The hay was prosperous, and the wheat;
The silken harvest climbed the down;
Moon after moon was heavenly-sweet,
Stroking the bread within the sheaves,
Looking, 'twixt apples and their leaves.
And while this rose made round her cup,
The armies died convulsed; and when
This chaste young silver sun went up
Softly, ten thousand shattered men,
One wet corruption, heaped the plain,
After a league-long throb of pain.
Flower following tender flower; and birds,
And berries; and benignant skies
Made thrive the serried flocks and herds-
Yonder are men shot through the eyes,
And children crushed. Love, hide thy face
From man's unpardonable race.
rend= "italic" A Reply.
Who said "No man hath greater love than this,
To die to serve his friend ? "
So these have loved us all unto the end.
Chide thou no more, O thou unsacrificed!
The soldier dying dies upon a kiss,
The very kiss of Christ.
Alice Meynell.
