VERA M. BRITTAIN (SOMERVILLE)

TALL slender beech-trees, whispering, touched with fire, Swaying at even beneath a desolate sky; Smouldering embers aflame where the clouds hurry by To the wind’s desire. Dark sombre woodlands, rain-drenched by the scattering shower, Spindle that quivers and drops its dim berries to earth— Mourning, perhaps, as I mourn here alone for the dearth Of a happier hour. Can you still see them, who always delighted to roam Over the Hill where so often together we trod When winds of wild autumn strewed summer’s dead leaves on the sod, Ere your steps turned home?

“FOUR years,” some say consolingly. “Oh well, What’s that? You’re young. And then it must have been A very fine experience for you!” And they forget How others stayed behind, and just got on— Got on the better since we were away. And we came home and found They had achieved, and men revered their names, But never mentioned ours; And no one talked heroics now, and we Must just go back, and start again once more. “You threw four years into the melting-pot— Did you indeed!” these others cry. “Oh well, The more fool you!” And we’re beginning to agree with them.

SUNRISE and spring, and the river agleam in the morning, Life at its freshest, like flowers in the dawn-dew of May, Hope, and Love’s dreams the dim hills of the future adorning, Youth of the world, just awake to the glory of day— Is she not part of them, golden and fair and undaunted, Glad with the triumph of runners ahead in the race, Free as a child by no shadows or memories haunted, Challenging Death to his solemn and pitiful face? Sunset and dusk, and the stars of a mellow September, Sombre grey shadows, like Sleep stealing over the grass, Autumn leaves blown through the chill empty lanes of November, Sorrow enduring, though Youth with its rhapsodies pass— Are they not part of her, sweet with unconscious compassion, Ready to shoulder our burden of life with a jest, Will she not make them her own in her light-hearted fashion, Sadder than we in her song, in her laughter more blest?