 | War poems with some others |  |
32
Epilogue To L. R.
Ere long on this deserted shoreSea-folk will spread their gear,
And stretch the sail and paint the oar
Because the spring is near.
In a little while seas will be blue
And west winds warm again,
And I shall want to sail with you
To lands beyond the main.
We know the lure of sail and spur,
The call of the unknown;
And why should brain or heart demur
When the young birds are flown?
A hand that beckoned us to roam
Determined you and I
Should keep no anchor grounded home
But wander till we die.
A world yet unexplored extends
Past yon horizon's rim,
And where the bounded unknown ends
The unknowable is dim;
But so we pass with unbowed head
And eyes towards the sun;
We reck not where the tent be spread
When the last march is done.
| War poems with some others | |