But war his overturning trumpet blew. And in that scattering blast, the knot was rent That held them: one his faint steps northward bent, The younger the blind lot of battle drew; And all seemed well, no cause for tears or joy; But tidings came, or else, of these in lieu, A written word: a hand, though rough to see, The old man loved, for he had taught the boy. At length all ceased: the last one was the last; But still he read and with a fond belief Weighed each, as 'twere to find some link or clue. It never came,--but days the old man passed Pondering upon the letters wistfully, Silent, and with the fiery eye of grief. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A TIME TO DANCE by CECIL DAY LEWIS SISTER MARIA CELESTE, GALILEO'S DAUGHTER, WRITES TO FRIEND by MADELINE DEFREES RETURN (1) by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON VASHTI by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON CHILD OF MY HEART by EDWIN MARKHAM LENTEN GREETING; TO A LADY by GEORGE SANTAYANA |