VIII

Still waiting! And the oozing hours have crept The morning out in vapour shot with fire, That struck now here now there in random ire Bloodily something human down, yet kept Alone stagnation at arm’s length. Men leapt Suddenly to their feet, smit with a dire Surmise, collapsed, and huddled in the mire. No whisper passed. Some seemed as though they slept. Only the stolid bearers wound about, Shouldering their still and dabbled burdens white; Or sharply a familiar voice rang out, Comfortingly peremptory: “All right? Then keep together. Lie low. Do not doubt. The hour will surely come when we shall fight.”