16

Before The Battle

Music of whispering trees

Hushed by the broad-winged breeze

Where shaken water gleams;

And evening radiance falling

With reedy bird-notes calling.

O bear me safe through dark,
you low-voiced streams.

I have no need to pray

That fear may pass away;

I scorn the growl and rumble of the fight

That summons me from cool

Silence of marsh and pool,

And yellow lilies islanded in light.

O river of stars and shadows,
lead me through the night.

June 25th, 1916.