Our Hero

"Flowers, only flowers -- bring me dainty posies,
  Blossoms for forgetfulness," that was all he said;
So we sacked our gardens, violets and roses,
  Lilies white and bluebells laid we on his bed.
Soft his pale hands touched them, tenderly caressing;
  Soft into his tired eyes came a little light;
Such a wistful love-look, gentle as a blessing;
  There amid the flowers waited he the night.

"I would have you raise me; I can see the West then:
  I would see the sun set once before I go."
So he lay a-gazing, seemed to be at rest then,
  Quiet as a spirit in the golden glow.
So he lay a-watching rosy castles crumbling,
  Moats of blinding amber, bastions of flame,
Rugged rifts of opal, crimson turrets tumbling;
  So he lay a-dreaming till the shadows came.

"Open wide the window; there's a lark a-singing;
  There's a glad lark singing in the evening sky.
How it's wild with rapture, radiantly winging:
  Oh it's good to hear that when one has to die.
I am horror-haunted from the hell they found me;
  I am battle-broken, all I want is rest.
Ah! It's good to die so, blossoms all around me,
  And a kind lark singing in the golden West.

"Flowers, song and sunshine, just one thing is wanting,
  Just the happy laughter of a little child."
So we brought our dearest, Doris all-enchanting;
  Tenderly he kissed her; radiant he smiled.
"In the golden peace-time you will tell the story
  How for you and yours, sweet, bitter deaths were ours. . . .
God bless little children!" So he passed to glory,
  So we left him sleeping, still amid the flow'rs.

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"Our Hero" Poetry.net. STANDS4 LLC, 2020. Web. 6 Apr. 2020. <https://www.poetry.net/poem/32350/our-hero>.

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