Part 10

Not long did we lie on the torn, red field of pain. We fell, we lay, we slumbered, we took rest, With the wild nerves quiet at last, and the vexed brain Cleared of the wingèd nightmares, and the breast Freed of the heavy dreams of hearts afar. We rose at last under the morning star. We rose, and greeted our brothers, and welcomed our foes. We rose; like the wheat when the wind is over, we rose. With shouts we rose, with gasps and incredulous cries, With bursts of singing, and silence, and awestruck eyes, With broken laughter, half tears, we rose from the sod, With welling tears and with glad lips, whispering, "God." Like babes, refreshed from sleep, like children, we rose, Brimming with deep content, from our dreamless repose. And, "What do you call it?" asked one. "I thought I was dead." "You are," cried another. "We're all of us dead and flat." "I'm alive as a cricket. There's something wrong with your head." They stretched their limbs and argued it out where they sat. And over the wide field friend and foe Spoke of small things, remembering not old woe Of war and hunger, hatred and fierce words. They sat and listened to the brooks and birds, And watched the starlight perish in pale flame, Wondering what God would look like when He came.

_Hermann Hagedorn_

TO A HERO

We may not know how fared your soul before Occasion came to try it by this test. Perchance, it used on lofty wings to soar; Again, it may have dwelt in lowly nest.

We do not know if bygone knightly strain Impelled you then, or blood of humble clod Defied the dread adventure to attain The cross of honor or the peace of God.

We see but this, that when the moment came You raised on high, then drained, the solemn cup-- The grail of death; that, touched by valor's flame, The kindled spirit burned the body up.

_Oscar C.A. Child_

RUPERT BROOKE

(IN MEMORIAM)

I never knew you save as all men know Twitter of mating birds, flutter of wings In April coverts, and the streams that flow-- One of the happy voices of our Springs.

A voice for ever stilled, a memory, Since you went eastward with the fighting ships, A hero of the great new Odyssey, And God has laid His finger on your lips.

_Moray Dalton_

THE PLAYERS

We challenged Death. He threw with weighted dice. We laughed and paid the forfeit, glad to pay-- Being recompensed beyond our sacrifice With that nor Death nor Time can take away.

_Francis Bickley_

A SONG

Oh, red is the English rose, And the lilies of France are pale, And the poppies grow in the golden wheat, For the men whose eyes are heavy with sleep, Where the ground is red as the English rose, And the lips as the lilies of France are pale, And the ebbing pulses beat fainter and fainter and fail.

Oh, red is the English rose, And the lilies of France are pale. And the poppies lie in the level corn For the men who sleep and never return. But wherever they lie an English rose So red, and a lily of France so pale, Will grow for a love that never and never can fail.

_Charles Alexander Richmond_

HARVEST MOON

Over the twilight field, Over the glimmering field And bleeding furrows, with their sodden yield Of sheaves that still did writhe, After the scythe; The teeming field, and darkly overstrewn With all the garnered fullness of that noon-- Two looked upon each other. One was a Woman, men had called their mother: And one the Harvest Moon.

And one the Harvest Moon Who stood, who gazed On those unquiet gleanings, where they bled; Till the lone Woman said:

"But we were crazed.... We should laugh now together, I and you; We two. You, for your ever dreaming it was worth A star's while to look on, and light the earth; And I, for ever telling to my mind Glory it was and gladness, to give birth To human kind. I gave the breath,--and thought it not amiss, I gave the breath to men, For men to slay again; Lording it over anguish, all to give My life, that men might live, For this.

"You will be laughing now, remembering We called you once Dead World, and barren thing. Yes, so we called you then, You, far more wise Than to give life to men."

Over the field that there Gave back the skies A scattered upward stare From sightless eyes, The furrowed field that lay Striving awhile, through many a bleeding dune Of throbbing clay,--but dumb and quiet soon, She looked; and went her way, The Harvest Moon.

_Josephine Preston Peabody_

HARVEST MOON: 1916

Moon, slow rising, over the trembling sea-rim, Moon of the lifted tides and their folded burden. Look, look down. And gather the blinded oceans, Moon of compassion.

Come, white Silence, over the one sea pathway: Pour with hallowing hands on the surge and outcry, Silver flame; and over the famished blackness, Petals of moonlight.

Once again, the formless void of a world-wreck Gropes its way through the echoing dark of chaos; Tide on tide, to the calling, lost horizons,-- One in the darkness.

You that veil the light of the all-beholding, Shed white tidings down to the dooms of longing, Down to the timeless dark; and the sunken treasures, One in the darkness.

Touch, and harken,--under that shrouding silver, Rise and fall, the heart of the sea and its legions, All and one; one with the breath of the deathless, Rising and falling.

Touch and waken so, to a far hereafter, Ebb and flow, the deep, and the dead in their longing: Till at last, on the hungering face of the waters, There shall be Light.

_Light of Light, give us to see, for their sake. Light of Light, grant them eternal peace; And let light perpetual shine upon them; Light, everlasting._

_Josephine Preston Peabody_

MY SON

Here is his little cambric frock That I laid by in lavender so sweet, And here his tiny shoe and sock I made with loving care for his dear feet.

I fold the frock across my breast, And in imagination, ah, my sweet, Once more I hush my babe to rest, And once again I warm those little feet.

Where do those strong young feet now stand? In flooded trench, half numb to cold or pain, Or marching through the desert sand To some dread place that they may never gain.

God guide him and his men to-day! Though death may lurk in any tree or hill, His brave young spirit is their stay, Trusting in that they'll follow where he will.

They love him for his tender heart When poverty or sorrow asks his aid, But he must see each do his part-- Of cowardice alone he is afraid.

I ask no honours on the field, That other men have won as brave as he-- I only pray that God may shield My son, and bring him safely back to me!

_Ada Tyrrell_

TO THE OTHERS

This was the gleam then that lured from far Your son and my son to the Holy War: Your son and my son for the accolade With the banner of Christ over them, in steel arrayed.

All quiet roads of life ran on to this; When they were little for their mother's kiss. Little feet hastening, so soft, unworn, To the vows and the vigil and the road of thorn.

Your son and my son, the downy things, Sheltered in mother's breast, by mother's wings, Should they be broken in the Lord's wars--Peace! He Who has given them--are they not His?

Dream of knight's armour and the battle-shout, Fighting and falling at the last redoubt, Dream of long dying on the field of slain; This was the dream that lured, nor lured in vain.

These were the Voices they heard from far; Bugles and trumpets of the Holy War. Your son and my son have heard the call, Your son and my son have stormed the wall.

Your son and my son, clean as new swords; Your man and my man and now the Lord's! Your son and my son for the Great Crusade, With the banner of Christ over them--our knights new-made.

_Katharine Tynan_

THE JOURNEY

I went upon a journey To countries far away, From province unto province To pass my holiday.

And when I came to Serbia, In a quiet little town At an inn with a flower-filled garden With a soldier I sat down.

Now he lies dead at Belgrade. You heard the cannon roar! It boomed from Rome to Stockholm, It pealed to the far west shore.

And when I came to Russia, A man with flowing hair Called me his friend and showed me A flowing river there.

Now he lies dead at Lemberg, Beside another stream, In his dark eyes extinguished The friendship of his dream.

And then I crossed two countries Whose names on my lips are sealed.... Not yet had they flung their challenge Nor led upon the field

Sons who lie dead at Liège, Dead by the Russian lance, Dead in southern mountains, Dead through the farms of France.

I stopped in the land of Louvain, So tranquil, happy, then. I lived with a good old woman, With her sons and her grandchildren.

Now they lie dead at Louvain, Those simple kindly folk. Some heard, some fled. It must be Some slept, for they never woke.

I came to France. I was thirsty. I sat me down to dine. The host and his young wife served me With bread and fruit and wine.

Now he lies dead at Cambrai-- He was sent among the first. In dreams she sees him dying Of wounds, of heat, of thirst.

At last I passed to Dover And saw upon the shore A tall young English captain And soldiers, many more.

Now they lie dead at Dixmude, The brave, the strong, the young! I turn unto my homeland, All my journey sung!

_Grace Fallow Norton_

A MOTHER'S DEDICATION

Dear son of mine, the baby days are over, I can no longer shield you from the earth; Yet in my heart always I must remember How through the dark I fought to give you birth.

Dear son of mine, by all the lives behind you; By all our fathers fought for in the past; In this great war to which your birth has brought you, Acquit you well, hold you our honour fast!

God guard you, son of mine, where'er you wander; God lead the banners under which you fight; You are my all, I give you to the Nation, God shall uphold you that you fight aright.

_Margaret Peterson_

TO A MOTHER

Robbed mother of the stricken Motherland-- Two hearts in one and one among the dead, Before your grave with an uncovered head I, that am man, disquiet and silent stand In reverence. It is your blood they shed; It is your sacred self that they demand, For one you bore in joy and hope, and planned Would make yourself eternal, now has fled.

But though you yielded him unto the knife And altar with a royal sacrifice Of your most precious self and dearer life-- Your master gem and pearl above all price-- Content you; for the dawn this night restores Shall be the dayspring of his soul and yours.

_Eden Phillpotts_

SPRING IN WAR-TIME

I feel the spring far off, far off, The faint, far scent of bud and leaf-- Oh, how can spring take heart to come To a world in grief, Deep grief?

The sun turns north, the days grow long, Later the evening star grows bright-- How can the daylight linger on For men to fight, Still fight?

The grass is waking in the ground, Soon it will rise and blow in waves-- How can it have the heart to sway Over the graves, New graves?

Under the boughs where lovers walked The apple-blooms will shed their breath-- But what of all the lovers now Parted by Death, Grey Death?

_Sara Teasdale_

OCCASIONAL NOTES

ASQUITH, HERBERT. He received a commission in the Royal Marine Artillery at the end of 1914 and served as a Second Lieutenant with an Anti- Aircraft Battery in April, 1915, returning wounded during the following June. He became a full Lieutenant in July, but was invalided home after about six weeks. In June, 1916, he joined the Royal Field Artillery and went out to France once again with a battery of field guns at the beginning of March, 1917. Since that time he has been steadily on active service.

BEWSHER, PAUL. He was educated at St. Paul's School, and is a Sub-Lieutenant in the Royal Naval Air Service.

BINYON, LAURENCE. His war writings include _The Winnowing Fan_ and _The Anvil_, published in America under the title of _The Cause_.

BRIDGES, ROBERT. He has been Poet-Laureate of England since 1913.

BROOKE, RUPERT. He was born at Rugby on August 3, 1887, and became a Fellow of King's College, Cambridge, in 1913. He was made a Sub-Lieutenant in the Royal Naval Volunteer Reserve in September, 1914; accompanied the Antwerp expedition in October of the same year; and sailed with the British Mediterranean Expeditionary Force on February 28, 1915. He died in the Aegean, on April 23, and lies buried in the island of Skyros. See the memorial poems in this volume, _The Island of Skyros_, by John Masefield; and _Rupert Brooke_, by Moray Dalton. His war poetry appears in the volume entitled _1914 and other Poems_, and in his _Collected Poems_.

CAMPBELL, WILFRED. This well-known Canadian poet has lately published _Sagas of Vaster Britain, War Lyrics_, and _Canada's Responsibility to the Empire_. His son, Captain Basil Campbell, joined the Second Pioneers.

CHESTERTON, CECIL EDWARD. He has been editor of the _New Witness_ since 1912, and is a private in the Highland Light Infantry. His war writings include _The Prussian hath said in his Heart_, and _The Perils of Peace_.

CHESTERTON, GILBERT KEITH. This brilliant and versatile author has written many essays on phases of the war, including weekly contributions to _The Illustrated London News_.

CONE, HELEN GRAY. She has been Professor of English in Hunter College since 1899. Her war poetry appears in the volume entitled _A Chant of Love for England, and other Poems_.

COULSON, LESLIE. He joined the British Army in September, 1914, declined a commission and served in Egypt, Malta, Gallipoli (where he was wounded), and Prance. He became Sergeant in the City of London Regiment (Royal Fusiliers) and was mortally wounded while leading a charge against the Germans in October, 1916.

DIXON, WILLIAM MACNEILE. He is Professor of English Language and Literature in the University of Glasgow. His war writings include _The British Navy at War_ and _The Fleets behind the Fleet_.

DOYLE, SIR ARTHUR CONAN. He has written much of interest on the war, especially as regards the western campaigns.

FIELD, A.N. He is a private in the Second New Zealand Brigade.

FRANKAU, GILBERT. Upon the declaration of war he joined the Ninth East Surrey Regiment (Infantry), with the rank of Lieutenant. He was transferred to the Royal Field Artillery in March, 1915, and was appointed Adjutant during the following July. He proceeded to France in that capacity, fought in the battle of Loos, served at Ypres during the winter of 1915-16, and thereafter took part in the battle of the Somme. In October, 1916, he was recalled to England, was promoted to the rank of Staff Captain in the Intelligence Corps, and was sent to Italy to engage in special duties.

FREEMAN, JOHN. He was Lieutenant-Colonel in the Russian A. M. S., on the Bacteriological Mission to Galicia, 1914.

GALSWORTHY, JOHN. Mr. Galsworthy, the well-known novelist, poet, and dramatist, served for several months as an expert _masseur_ in an English hospital for French soldiers at Martouret.

GIBSON, WILFRID WILSON. His war writings include _Battle_, etc.

GRENFELL, THE HON. JULIAN, D.S.O. He was a Captain in the First Royal Dragoons; was wounded near Ypres on March 13, 1915; and died at Boulogne on May 26. He was the eldest son of Lord Desborough. "Julian set an example of light-hearted courage," wrote Lieutenant-Colonel Machlachan, of the Eighth Service Battalion Rifle Brigade, "which is famous all through the Army in France, and has stood out even above the most lion-hearted."

HALL, JAMES NORMAN. He is a member of the American Aviation Corps in France, and author of _Kitchener's Mob_ and _High Adventure_. He was captured by the Germans, May 7, 1918, after an air battle inside the enemy's lines.

HARDY, THOMAS. He received the Order of Merit in 1910.

HEMPHREY, MALCOLM. He is a Lance-Corporal in the Army Ordnance Corps, Nairobi, British East Africa.

HEWLETT, MAURICE HENRY. He has published a group of his war poems under the title _Sing-Songs of the War_.

HODGSON, W.N. He was the son of the Bishop of Ipswich and Edmundsbury, and was a Lieutenant in the Devon Regiment. His pen-name is "Edward Melbourne." He won the Military Cross. He was killed during the battle of the Somme, in July, 1916.

HOWARD, GEOFFREY. He is a Lieutenant in the Royal Fusiliers.

HUSSEY, DYNELEY. He is a Lieutenant in the Thirteenth Battalion of the Lancashire Fusiliers, and has published his war poems in a volume entitled _Fleur de Lys_.

HUTCHINSON, HENRY WILLIAM. He was the son of Sir Sidney Hutchinson, and was educated at St. Paul's School. He was a Second Lieutenant in the Middlesex Regiment. He was killed while on active service in France, March 13, 1917, at the age of nineteen.

KAUFMAN, HERBERT. He has published _The Song of the Guns_, which was later republished as _The Hell-Gate of Soissons_.

KIPLING, RUDYARD. Mr. Kipling won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1907. His war writings include _The New Armies in Training, France at War_, and _Sea Warfare_.

KNIGHT-ADKIN, JAMES. When war was declared he was a Master at the Imperial Service College, Windsor, and Lieutenant in the Officers' Training Corps. He volunteered on the first day of the war and was attached to the Fourth Battalion, Gloucester Regiment. He went into the trenches in March, 1915, was wounded in June, and was invalided home. In 1916 he returned to France, and is now a Captain in charge of a prisoner-of-war camp.

LEE, JOSEPH. He enlisted, at the outbreak of the war, as a private in the 1st/4th Battalion of the Black Watch, Royal Highlanders, in which corps he has served on all parts of the British front in France and Flanders. Sergeant Lee has both composed and illustrated a volume of war-poems entitled _Ballads of Battle_.

LUCAS, EDWARD VERRALL. Mr. Lucas has undertaken hospital service.

MASEFIELD, JOHN. Mr. Masefield, whose lectures in America early in 1916 quickened interest in his work and personality, has been very active during the war. He has written an excellent study of the campaign on the Gallipoli Peninsula, having served there and also in France in connection with Red Cross work.

MORGAN, CHARLES LANGBRIDGE. He is a Sub-Lieutenant in the Royal Naval Division, and is a Prisoner of War in Holland.

NEWBOLT, SIR HENRY. He is the author of _The Book of the Thin Red Line, Story of the Oxfordshire and Buckinghamshire Light Infantry_, and _Stories of the Great War_.

NOYES, ALFRED. His war writings include _A Salute to the Fleet_, etc.

OGILVIE, WILLIAM HENRY. He was Professor of Agricultural Journalism in the Iowa State College, U.S.A., from 1905 to 1907. His war writings include _Australia and Other Verses_.

OSWALD, SYDNEY. He is a Major in the King's Royal Rifle Corps.

PHILLIPS, STEPHEN. His war writings include _Armageddon_, etc. He died December 9, 1915.

PHILLPOTTS, EDEN. Among his war writings are _The Human Boy and the War_, and _Plain Song, 1914-16_.

RATCLIFFE, A. VICTOR. He was a Lieutenant in the 10th/13th West Yorkshire Regiment, and was killed in action on July 1, 1916.

RAWNSLEY, REV. HARDWICKE DRUMMOND. He has been Canon of Carlisle and Honorary Chaplain to the King since 1912.

ROBERTSON, ALEXANDER. He is a Corporal in the Twelfth York and Lancaster Regiment. He was reported "missing" in July, 1916.

ROSS, SIR RONALD. He is the President of the Poetry Society of Great Britain, and is a Lieutenant-Colonel in the Royal Army Medical Corps.

SCOLLARD, CLINTON. His war writings include _The Vale of Shadows, and Other Verses of the Great War_, and _Italy in Arms, and Other Verses_.

SCOTT, CANON FREDERICK GEORGE. He is a Major in the Third Brigade of the First Canadian Division, British Expeditionary Force.

SEAMAN, SIR OWEN. He has been the editor of _Punch_ since 1906. His war writings include _War-Time_ and _Made in England_.

SEEGER, ALAN. Among the Americans who have served at the front there is none who has produced poetic work of such high quality as that of Alan Seeger. He was born in New York on June 22nd, 1888; was educated at the Horace Mann School; Hackley School, Tarrytown, New York; and Harvard College. In 1912 he went to Paris and lived the life of a student and writer in the Latin Quarter. During the third week of the war he enlisted in the Foreign Legion of France. His service as a soldier was steady, loyal and uncomplaining--indeed, exultant would not be too strong a word to describe the spirit which seems constantly to have animated his military career. He took part in the battle of Champagne. Afterwards, his regiment was allowed to recuperate until May, 1916. On July 1 a general advance was ordered, and on the evening of July 4 the Legion was ordered to attack the village of Belloy-en-Santerre. Seeger's squad was caught by the fire of six machine-guns and he himself was wounded in several places, but he continued to cheer his comrades as they rushed on in what proved a successful charge. He died on the morning of July 5. The twenty or more poems he wrote during active service are included in the collected _Poems by Alan Seeger_, with an introduction by William Archer.

SORLEY, CHARLES HAMILTON. He was born at Old Aberdeen on May 19, 1895. He was a student at Marlborough College from the autumn of 1908 until the end of 1913, at which time he was elected to a scholarship at University College, Oxford. After leaving school in England, he spent several months as a student and observer in Germany. When the war broke out he returned home and was gazetted Second Lieutenant in the Seventh (Service) Battalion of the Suffolk Regiment. In November he was made a Lieutenant, and in August, 1915, a Captain. He served in France from May 30 to October 13, 1915, when he was killed in action near Hulluch. His war poems and letters appear in a volume entitled _Marlborough and other Poems_, published by the Cambridge University Press.

STEWART, J.E. He is a Captain in the Eighth Border Regiment, British Expeditionary Force. He was awarded the Military Cross in 1916.

TENNANT, EDWARD WYNDHAM. He was the son of Baron Glenconner, and was at Winchester when war was declared. He was only seventeen when he joined the Grenadier Guards, Twenty-first Battalion. He had one year's training in England, saw one year's active service in France, and fell, gallantly fighting, in the battle of the Somme, 1916.

TYNAN, KATHARINE. Pen-name of Mrs. Katharine Tynan Hinkson, whose war writings include _The Flower of Peace_, _The Holy War_, etc.

VAN DYKE, HENRY. He has been Professor of English Literature in Princeton University since 1900, and was United States Minister to the Netherlands and Luxembourg from June, 1913, to December, 1916. He has published several war poems. He is the first American to receive an honorary degree at Oxford since the United States entered the war. The degree of Doctor of Civil Law was conferred upon him on May 8, 1917.

VERNÈDE, ROBERT ERNEST. He was educated at St. Paul's School and at St. John's College, Oxford. On leaving college he became a professional writer, producing several novels and two books of travel sketches, one dealing with India, the other with Canada. He was also author of a number of poems. At the outbreak of the war he enlisted in the Nineteenth Royal Fusiliers, known as the Public Schools Battalion, and received a commission as Second Lieutenant in the Rifle Brigade, in May, 1915. He went to France in November, 1915, and was wounded during the battle of the Somme in September of the following year, but returned to the front in December. He died of wounds on April 9, 1917, in his forty-second year.

WATERHOUSE, GILBERT. Lieutenant in the Second Essex Regiment. His war writings include _Railhead, and other Poems_. He is reported "missing."

WHARTON, EDITH. She has written _Fighting France_, etc.

INDEX OF FIRST LINES