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arrows and wooden Babylon beautifulest flowers beggar birds bitterns bough caterpillar Catl Cerberus cherries pluckt Claire Corporal Stare Cow's dead cried cruel and flat Cruel Moon cut or burn damned David double red daisies dream drink drowned Ere you curse everything Fairies and Fusiliers Faun is free Festubert fiddlededee fight Fricourt gaberdine glorious Goliath green Gweithdy Bach Harvard College helter-skelter Hey and hither hidden roots jolly Jonah killed King Faun lapped my blood laugh Legion loop of honeysuckle lovely Lucasta magic Mametz Wood merry monstrous Morphia never night nonsense nursery Philistine Playing at Royal poet poetry prayer Pull or stab purple whale Rhinog rhyme Robert round rounder Royal Welch Fusiliers Scorn shiver shout smile song stab or cut stones Strabo Strong beer Take a cherry things thrust To-day voice cruel Volnay watch wetter wingle wizard wonder young
Page 71 - I felt the vapors of forgetfulness Float in my nostrils. Oh, may Heaven bless Dear Lady Proserpine, who saw me wake, And, stooping over me, for Henna's sake Cleared my poor buzzing head and sent me back Breathless, with leaping heart along the track. After me roared and clattered angry hosts Of demons, heroes, and policeman-ghosts. "Life! life! I can't be dead! I won't be dead! Damned if I'll die for anyone!
Page 4 - you are strange tonight. The Legion is the Legion; it's all right. If these new men are slovenly, in your thinking, God damn it! you'll not better them by drinking. They all try, Strabo; trust their hearts and hands. The Legion is the Legion while Rome stands, And these same men before the autumn's fall Shall bang old Vercingetorix out of Gaul.
Page 28 - The bugler sent a call of high romance — " Lights out! Lights out! " to the deserted square. On the thin brazen notes he threw a prayer: " God, if it's this for me next time in France...
Page 20 - Over the hedge you'll see him sail. Old birds are neither caught with salt nor chaff : They watch you from the apple bough and laugh. Poet, never chase the dream. Laugh yourself and turn away. Mask your hunger, let it seem Small matter if he come or stay ; But when he nestles in your hand at last, Close up your fingers tight and hold him fast. Robert STAR-TALK ' Are you awake, Gemelli, This frosty night ? ' ' We'll be awake till reveille, Which is Sunrise...
Page 70 - Fusiliers) . . . But I was dead, an hour or more: I woke when I'd already passed the door That Cerberus guards and half-way down the road To Lethe, as an old Greek sign-post showed. Above me, on my stretcher swinging by, I saw new stars in the sub-terrene sky, A Cross, a Rose in Bloom, a Cage with Bars, And a barbed Arrow feathered with fine stars.
Page 56 - Another War soon gets begun, A dirtier, a more glorious one; Then, boys, you'll have to play, all in; It's the cruellest team will win. So hold your nose against the stink And never stop too long to think. Wars don't change except in name; The next one must go just the same, And new foul tricks unguessed before Will win and justify this War. Kaisers and Czars will strut the stage Once more with pomp and greed and rage; Courtly ministers will stop At home and fight to the last drop; By the million...
Page 87 - He, of his gentleness, Thirsting and hungering Walked in the wilderness; Soft words of grace he spoke Unto lost desert-folk That listened wondering. He heard the bittern call From ruined palace-wall, Answered him brotherly; He held communion With the she-pelican Of lonely piety.
Page 71 - I said. . . . Cerberus stands and grins above me now, Wearing three heads — lion, and lynx, and sow. "Quick, a revolver! But my Webley's gone, Stolen! . . . No bombs ... no knife. . . . The crowd swarms on, Bellows, hurls stones. . . . Not even a honeyed sop . . . Nothing. . . . Good Cerberus! . . . Good dog! . . . but stop! Stay! ... A great luminous thought. . . I do believe There's still some morphia that I bought on leave.
Page 76 - Walking through trees to cool my heat and pain, I know that David's with me here again. All that is simple, happy, strong he is. Caressingly I stroke Rough bark of the friendly oak. A brook goes bubbling by : the voice is his. Turf burns with pleasant smoke : I laugh at chaffinch and at primroses. All that is simple, happy, strong, he is. Over the whole wood in a little while Breaks his slow smile.