<html xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><body><h1 align="center" class="head">On the Rue Du Bois</h1><div class="stanza"><p class="line">O PALLID Christ within this broken shrine,</p><p class="line">Not those torn Hands and not that Heartof Thine</p><p class="line">Have given the nations blood to drink like wine.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Through weary years and 'neath the changing skies,</p><p class="line">Men turned their back on those appealing Eyes</p><p class="line">And scorned as vain Thine awful Sacrifice.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Kings with their armies, children in their play,</p><p class="line">Have passed unheeding down this shell-ploughed way,</p><p class="line">The great world knew not where its true strengthlay.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">In pomp and luxury, in lust of gold, </p><p class="line">in selfish ease, in pleasures manifold,</p><p class="line">"Evil is good, good evil," we were told.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Yet here, where nightly the great flare-lights gleam,</p><p class="line">And murder stalks triumphant in their beam,</p><p class="line">The world has wakened from its empty dream.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">At last, O Christ, in this strange, darkened land, </p><p class="line">Where ruined homes lie round on every hand,</p><p class="line">Life's deeper truths men come to understand.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">For lonely graves along the countryside,</p><p class="line">Where sleep those brave hearts who for others died,</p><p class="line">Tell of life's union with the Crucified.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">And new light kindles in the mourner's eyes,</p><p class="line">Like day-dawn breaking through the rifted skies,</p><p class="line">For Life is born of life's self-sacrifice.</p></div><p class="byline">Holy Week, Northern France.</p>(The <em>Times></em></body></html> · Great War