For France | ||
7
A POSTHUMOUS POEM
There was a stately drama writBy the hand that peopled the earth and air
And set the stars in the infinite
And made night gorgeous and morning fair,
And all that had sense to reason knew
That bloody drama must be gone through.
Sane sat and watched how the action veered–
Waited, profited, trembled, cheered—
We saw not clearly nor understood,
But yielding ourselves to the masterhand,
Each in his part as best he could,
We played it through as the author planned
Alan Seeger
For France | ||