After The War

Topics: classic

Last Post sounded Across the mead To where he loitered With absent heed. Five years before In the evening there Had flown that call To him and his Dear. "You'll never come back; Good-bye!" she had said; "Here I'll be living, And my Love dead!" Those closing minims Had been as shafts darting Through him and her pressed In that last parting; They thrilled him not now, In the selfsame place With the selfsame sun On his war-seamed face. "Lurks a god's laughter In this?" he said, "That I am the living And she the dead!"

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