Part 4

Earth of the Earth I slumber'd long, I slumber'd in the untrod glooms, And then Dawn came. I felt the world was glad with song, I felt the hillsides were a flame Of king-cup blooms. And when Dawn came, Three times I knocked upon the door Which was my seal, my world and sky, Three times with might. There came a burst of sound and light, A knowledge broad and deep and high, The long breath of a sloping moor. I looked into the daylight wide, A bird sang thro' the singing blue, And then, O heart, and then I knew I _dream'd_ I died.

FLOWERS IN WAR

Still, still, with all your ancient bloom, You glow athwart our gloom. Still, O too callous flowers, You load with gems these swooning hours. Still, still, the lilac foams and falls Against our hollow silenced walls. Against the cinders of our homes, Wistaria falls and foams.

When all the Spring is all a loaded grave, How can your banners wave? How when the wind goes round your way, How can your trumpets play?

For whom your splendours chiefly shone, All those, all those, are gone. Now Spring is nipped and hoar, Too callous flowers, why bloom ye more? Still, still, the scarlet sorrel gleams All noon along the noon-gold streams. Still, still, the meadow-pippet's feet Are dewed on meadow-sweet.

Be curst, O callous flowers that come so fair With taunts at our despair. Or if next Spring shall lead you back, Be all your petals black!

EVENING--KENT

Sheep, like woolly clouds dropt from the sky, Drift through the quiet meads. From over the seas, a little cry, --Europe bleeds!

Clouds, like woolly sheep, hardly stir'd, Drift through the quiet skies. From over the seas, a little word, --Europe dies!

BLACK MAGIC

Hands on the window-sill I hear but cannot see. Ghosts riding down the hill I see but cannot hear. My heart is cold with fear Of every trembling tree.

The day has never been, And day will never be. And Night is very lean, And Death is very swift. And green eyes blink and shift Through every monstrous tree.

Black arms across the night, And hands I may not flee, And fingers grasping tight That choke my little cries, And I shall have green eyes Within a phantom tree.

A SOLDIER DYING

"Lad, why are your fingers twitching, What is the thing they strain to hold? Why does your blood flow thick, enriching A bleak strange place?"

"Dying, dying--then do not task me!" "Tell me before your lips are cold." "I am afraid of the thing you ask me." "--Before the dark is in your face."

"This is why my blood is oozing. Because my masters did the choosing. Blood is cheap and bought for gold."

"Are they masters of your knowing?" "I know not who my masters be. I only know my blood is flowing, Because my secret masters said, 'We shall live and he be dead.'"

"This is why your fingers straining Clutch the thing they shall not hold?" "This is why the blood is waning, Waning from my face. They gathered in the market-place, They gathered to buy merchandise. My blood was bought for little price, My masters bought and I was sold. This is why my blood is oozing, Blood is cheap and bought for gold."

AT LAST WAR ENDS

And still the War went on: till only ten Were left to win the War; they fought; and then, Then there were no more men.

There was a gloom of apprehension lest For lack of flesh the first and last and best Of wars might be suppressed.

But Mars was far too sage to be surprised. Now that the race of men were quite demised, The women mobilized.

So now for gassier gas and flamier flame! Compared with what the present War became, The old War was a game.

The old had fifty years in which to thrive; When this had lasted only twenty-five, Two dames remained alive.

With flammen-werfer strictly up-to-date, They stalked each other, singing Hymns of Hate: --But one was just too late!

The Victress trying vainly to decide For whom her late opponent had just died, Committed suicide.

So now the world consisted but of trees And dogs and beetles livid with disease, And babies blue with fleas.

Trees, dogs, and beetles perished from the day. Like flies brought crawling earthwards by a spray, The babies dropped away.

Now truly War seemed ended. Mars was pained Beyond expression till he ascertained, Two babes, thank God! remained.

He fired them with the fury of all wars. A bloody hunger stung their toothless jaws. They squealed--"The Cause! The Cause!"

Black to the blinding noon they foamed and swore. Each from his brother's breast the red heart tore. Then there was War no more.

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