 | The Collected Poems of T. W. H. Crosland |  |
197
Graves in France
Once there was a little moon
That look'd down on Golgotha
And three crosses rangèd there
And the burdens which they bare:
Naught might hurt or trouble her,
Wise as wise and fair as fair.
That look'd down on Golgotha
And three crosses rangèd there
And the burdens which they bare:
Naught might hurt or trouble her,
Wise as wise and fair as fair.
O thou silver little moon,
Miles and miles of Golgotha
Now are spread to thy still stare:
And the myriad crosses there
Glimmer on the evening air,
Wise as wise and fair as fair.
Miles and miles of Golgotha
Now are spread to thy still stare:
And the myriad crosses there
Glimmer on the evening air,
Wise as wise and fair as fair.
| The Collected Poems of T. W. H. Crosland | |