In Hospital

Wounded to death he lay and dreamed The drums of battle beat afar, And round the roaring trenches screamed The hell of war.

Then woke; and, weeping, spoke one word To the kind nurse who bent above; Then in the whitewashed ward was heard A song of love.

The song she sang him when she gave The portrait that he kissed; then sighed, “Lay it beside me in the grave!” And smiled and died.