May's tapestry of green and gold Was hung about us fold on fold, Where, in the copse, the cuckoo calls, A scented arras on the walls Of space and time, that held us close As bees are garnered by the rose, And we two, walking in that wood, Had half forgot the mire and blood, (Forgive us, you who sleep in France!) We half forgot, and then some chance Or some stern angel led the way Through quiet fields to where he lay Broken, beneath his broken wings, Dead, who had known but twenty Springs, Still, where a million pulses beat, Face downwards in the young green wheat. That wreckage, gaunt and angular, Had flashed above us like a star An hour before. Its course was done; Finished; and one more woman's son Had cast the cloak so dearly bought, With patience and in travail wrought For nine long months, worn twenty years, How gaily! Now Fate's shears Had rent it, and the naked soul Slipped out at once. To see life whole One needs good eyes, but only God Can so view death. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...JEPHTHA'S DAUGHTER by GEORGE GORDON BYRON DARKNESS IS THINNING by GREGORY I THE BATTLE OF BLENHEIM by ROBERT SOUTHEY VERSES ADDRESSED TO IMITATOR OF FIRST SATIRE OF HORACE by MARY WORTLEY MONTAGU THE WOLD WAGGON by WILLIAM BARNES JOSEPH'S REFORM (A TALE OF THE HOT DOG TAVERN) by BERTON BRALEY |