Poems Real and Ideal By George Barlow |
XIV. |
XVII. |
XIX. |
XXI. |
XXII. |
XXIII. |
XXVII. |
XXVIII. |
XXIX. |
XXX. |
XLIV, XLV, XLVI. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
XLVII. |
LI. |
LIV. |
LVII. |
LIX. |
IV. |
II. |
IV. |
VI. |
VII. |
I. |
II. |
XX. |
XXI. |
I. |
II. |
IX. |
XII. |
XXII. | XXII.
AT LAST. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
Poems Real and Ideal | ||
354
XXII. AT LAST.
I heard a voice that said: “The time has come.
Let the whole line of bayonet-points advance”.—
I looked around the field with one last glance,
And saw once more a blackberry-hedge in bloom.
And then through curdled smoke and powdery gloom
I saw the quick fires round the cannons dance,
And saw wild pennons wave from many a lance,
And saw strange helmets flash and mad steeds loom.
Let the whole line of bayonet-points advance”.—
I looked around the field with one last glance,
And saw once more a blackberry-hedge in bloom.
And then through curdled smoke and powdery gloom
I saw the quick fires round the cannons dance,
And saw wild pennons wave from many a lance,
And saw strange helmets flash and mad steeds loom.
I drew my sword ere that great final sound
“Let the whole line advance” had fully past,
Tightened my sword-belt, and drew in my breath.
Then as the red line with a giant bound
Plunged after me, my whole soul laughed at last.—
And this was life supreme,—and this was death.
“Let the whole line advance” had fully past,
Tightened my sword-belt, and drew in my breath.
Then as the red line with a giant bound
Plunged after me, my whole soul laughed at last.—
And this was life supreme,—and this was death.
Dec. 30, 1883.
Poems Real and Ideal | ||