<html xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><body><h1 align="" class="head">Sailing for Flanders</h1><div class="stanza"><p class="line">TO need any more the skies or man to importune</p><p class="line">For us departing to-day with spirits at peace.</p><p class="line">Now that the inner warfares, that tire men, cease—</p><p class="line">For us the chosen of God's lot, the spoilt darlings of Fortune.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Against the beasts in men let loose from their cages</p><p class="line">We go forth with a lightened and proud heart.</p><p class="line">We who are the men summoned to a high part.</p><p class="line">To be known of the envious youth of unborn ages.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">We have feared old Death, but now have we learned our error.</p><p class="line">Seeing him there in the mire us so kindly await—</p><p class="line">A comrade befitting the hour of a world's fate,</p><p class="line">And we look him full in the eyes; we are rid of our</p><p class="line">last terror.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">True that Death is an ill, but the worse ills are many;</p><p class="line">Shame and slow rotting, cold and greasy years.</p><p class="line">Pride in dishonour—these things hold our fears;</p><p class="line">We can play pitch and toss with our lives as a boy</p><p class="line">with a penny.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">We have spent ourselves to win us a lady's favour,</p><p class="line">But now the spending is grown to a leaping fire.</p><p class="line">And winning for ourselves seems but a strange desire;</p><p class="line">Her eyes are remote as stars; her kisses have lost their savour.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">We have put life away and spurn the ways of the living;</p><p class="line">We have broken with the old selves who gathered and got.</p><p class="line">And are free with the freedom of men who have not;</p><p class="line">We partake the heroic fervours of giving and again giving.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Was it only for Death we were borne of our Mothers?</p><p class="line">Only for Death created the dear love of our wives?</p><p class="line">Only for Death and in vain we endeavoured our lives?</p><p class="line">Yea, life was given to be given; March onward, my brothers!</p></div><p>January, 1915.</p></body></html> · Great War