The Great War

from War: an Ode And Other Poems, an electronic edition


I BIND thee to me, without sign or sound,

Beloved one;

I bind thee to me as the Earth is bound

Unto the sun.

Now, with thy budding hopes and April dreams

Around me roll,

And evermore my gentle fostering beams

Will sun thy soul.

Yea, evermore my silent wordless light

Shining above,

Will ripen in thy heart the red and white

Blossoms of love.