<html xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><body><h1 align="center" class="head">A Grave in Flanders."<br xmlns:exist="http://exist.sourceforge.net/NS/exist" xmlns:html="http://www.w3.org/TR/REC-html40"/><span class="smallcaps">By the Marquess of Crewe.</span></h1><div class="stanza"><p class="line">HERE in the marshland, past the battered bridge,</p><p class="line">One of a hundred grains untimely sown,</p><p class="line">Here with his comrades of the hard-won ridge, </p><p class="line">He rests, unknown.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">His horoscope had seemed so plainly drawn:-</p><p class="line">School triumphs, earned apace in work and play:</p><p class="line">Friendships at will; then love's delightful dawn </p><p class="line">And mellowing day;</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Home fostering hope; some service to the State;</p><p class="line">Benignant age; then the long tryst to keep</p><p class="line">There in the yew-tree shadow congregate </p><p class="line">His fathers sleep.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Was the one thing needful to distil</p><p class="line">From life's alembic, through this holier fate,</p><p class="line">The man's essential soul, the hero will? </p><p class="line">We ask; and wait.</p></div><p>(The <em> Harrovian</em>)</p></body></html> · Great War