1. For England

THOUGH heaven be packed with joy-bewildering Pleasures of soul and heart and mind, yet who Would willingly let slip, freely let go Earth’s mortal loveliness; go wandering Where never the late bird is heard to sing, Nor full-sailed cloud-galleons wander slow; No pathways in the woods; no afterglow, When the air’s fire and magic with sense of spring?

So the dark horror clouds us, and the dread Of the unknown.... But if it must be, then What better passing than to go out like men For England, giving all in one white glow? Whose bodies shall lie in earth as on a bed, And as the Will directs our spirits may go