Читать книгу Oxford Poetry, 1919 - Группа авторов - Страница 6
ОглавлениеTO A V.C.
Because your feet were stayed upon that road
Whereon the others swiftly came and passed,
Because the harvest you and they had sowed
You only reaped at last.
Tis not your valour's meed alone you bear
Who stand the object of a nation's pride,
For on that humble Cross you live to wear
Your friends were crucified.
They shared with you the conquest over fear,
Sublime self-disregard, decision's power,
But Death, relentless, left you lonely here
In recognition's hour.
Their sign is yours to carry to the end;
The lost reward of gallant hearts as true
As yours they called their leader and their friend
Is worn for them by you.
