And I observed how the aged
Became suddenly young;
And mouthed fair phrases one to the other upon the Supreme Sacrifice,
And turned to their account-books, murmuring gravely:
Business as Usual;
And brought out bottles of wine and drank the health
Of the young men they had sent out to die for them.
At the Time of Clear Weather
In the agreeable public gardens of Poplar
The bushes are bright with buds,
For this is the season of Clear Weather.
There blossom the quiet flowers of this country:
The timid lilac,
The unassuming hawthorn,
The dignified chestnut,
And the girlish laburnum;
And the mandarin of them all is the rhododendron.
In the untilled field of my heart
Many simple buds are bursting.
There is a little bush of kindliness towards all men.
There is a slender tree of forgiveness for all wrongs.
There is a humble growth of repentance for past sins.
And around the field is a thick hedge of thankfulness.
And Ho! in the midst of all
Stands the tree of a hundred boughs
Laden with the sweetest of all buds
Which are breaking to flower under the sun of a maiden's eyes.
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