<html xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><body><h1 align="center" class="head">Standing By <br xmlns:exist="http://exist.sourceforge.net/NS/exist" xmlns:html="http://www.w3.org/TR/REC-html40"/>(DESOLATORY REFLECTIONS)</h1><div class="stanza"><p class="line">O spirit of my Fate keen-eyed, firm-lipped !</p><p class="line">Thou lead'st me not to pleasant places, dipt</p><p class="line">Rich in gold of setting suns, where dance</p><p class="line">Slim sylphs in silken draperies, who glance</p><p class="line">With luring elfish eyes as they flit away--</p><p class="line">Their white limbs twinkling in the gloom; or say</p><p class="line">(For vision lags) to those dim aisles of Faerie</p><p class="line">Where my craving soul would fain be led:</p><p class="line">Ah! no. Thou hurriest me to fields where dead</p><p class="line">Glue piteous eyes on me, each eye a curse!</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Relentless Fate, thou drivest on, steel-lipped !--</p><p class="line"><em>And I rebel !</em>--with frantic passion gript,</p><p class="line">Shrinking from lurid horrors that I see</p><p class="line">Revealed, in stark display, awaiting me!</p><p class="line"><em>And War I do curse! and gruesome, ogling death!</em></p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">O you! condemn me not with scorning breath,</p><p class="line">Who sit at home secure, in cushioned ease</p><p class="line">At peace, penning glib sonnets wrought to please,</p><p class="line">On War, and Pain, and Heaven and Sacrifice,</p><p class="line">Saying, " He who for his country dies</p><p class="line">Is blest! " and making sestets nobly end</p><p class="line">With ' Death!the sweet-toned, ever-welcome</p><p class="line">Friend'!</p><p class="line">(O Death! sweet welcome Friend! no friend of mine</p><p class="line">Art Thou)!</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Ah, no! That clear pure sight of thine</p><p class="line">Is not in me; I hear no fairy bells</p><p class="line">On battlefields, no visions see of wells</p><p class="line">Of rest, or hear no inner voice that sings;</p><p class="line">Or feel the fluttering of angel wings,</p><p class="line">Sheltering around,--but only Death</p><p class="line">I see, and Carnage, reeking with nauseous breath,</p><p class="line">Leering in War's hideous company</p><p class="line">With gorged Destruction, Lust and Misery!</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Oh ! I would rather gaze on beauty's face</p><p class="line">In some dim woodland grove, and dreaming, chase</p><p class="line">In rich-hued phantasy, all loveliness</p><p class="line">Of perfume, form, and sound; and wake to see</p><p class="line">The still twilight steal soft and holily</p><p class="line">Into the wood, and in the solemn deep</p><p class="line">Of eve, when birds and beasts are all asleep</p><p class="line">And not a leaf or flower is swaying, feel</p><p class="line">The hush of God!</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line" style="text-indent:%">But, ah! I cannot! Steel</p><p class="line">And iron and lead and poison gas and blood</p><p class="line">Blur my vision, blinding it with mud</p><p class="line">Of harsh reality! I see grim sights,</p><p class="line">And smell foul smells, and in some awful nights</p><p class="line">I see gaunt long-nailed Death with grinning jaws</p><p class="line">Stalking, creaking in his joints, with claws</p><p class="line">Out-stretched to grip me!</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line" style="text-indent:%">Oh! how can I pen sweet songs</p><p class="line">On noble themes, when all I see belongs</p><p class="line">To hell? War is no glorious, cleansing thing;</p><p class="line">And Death no gentle-mannered Saviour King!--</p><p class="line">But off! Begone! This whining piteous fret!</p><p class="line"><em>War will not crush me--I am a soldier yet!</em></p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Come ! Spirit of my Fate, whate'er thou hast</p><p class="line">In store for me--where'er my lot is cast</p><p class="line">In War's grim jaws--I'll strive to face, and fight,</p><p class="line">With proud rejoicing reckless might!</p><p class="line">And should Death have me in his thumb-smudged Book</p><p class="line">Dog-eared and grimy, with unwavering look</p><p class="line">I'll face him to the last and, fighting, fall</p><p class="line">With scorn upon my face for Hell and all</p><p class="line">Its despicable crew!</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line" style="text-indent:%">But still I pray,</p><p class="line">Spirit of my Fate ! that thou hast stored away</p><p class="line">For me, in some fair peaceful place, a spot</p><p class="line">Where Death and War and Pain will be forgot;</p><p class="line">And where, alive, dead friends will merry be</p><p class="line">'Mid song-filled homes in Paradise with me.</p></div></body></html> · Great War