English poem
A BROKEN SWORD.
by Henry Abbey (1842–1911)
Deep in the night I saw the sea, And overhead, the round moon white; Its steel cold gleam lay on the lea, And seemed my sword of life and light, Broke in that war death waged with me.
I heard the dip of golden oars; Twelve angels stranded in a boat; We sailed away for other shores; Though but an hour we were afloat, We harbored under heavenly doors.
O, Blanche, if I had run my race, And if I wore my winding sheet, And mourners went about the place, Would you so much as cross the street, To kiss in death my white, cold face?