Prose & Poetry - The Muse in Arms - Farewell
First published in London in November 1917 and reprinted in February 1918 The Muse in Arms comprised, in the words of editor E. B. Osborne:
"A collection of war poems, for the most part written in the field of action, by seamen, soldiers, and flying men who are serving, or have served, in the Great War".
Below is one of seven poems featured within The Mother Land section of the collection.
You can access other poems within the section via the sidebar to the right.
by Robert Nichols
(Written on Expeditionary Force Leave, 1915)
For the last time, maybe,
upon the knoll
I stand. The eve is golden, languid, sad.
Day like a tragic actor plays his role
To the last whispered word and falls gold-clad.
I, too, take leave of all I ever had.
They shall not say I went
with heavy heart:
Heavy I am, but soon I shall be free,
I love them all, but oh I now depart
A little sadly, strangely, fearfully,
As one who goes to try a mystery.
The bell is sounding down in
Be still, O bell: too often standing here
When all the air was tremulous, fine and pale,
Thy golden note so calm, so still, so clear,
Out of my stony heart has struck a tear.
And now tears are not mine.
I have release
From all the former and the later pain,
Like the mid sea I rock in boundless peace
Soothed by the charity of the deep-sea rain....
Calm rain! Calm sea! Calm found, long sought in vain!
O bronzen pines, evening of
gold and blue,
Steep mellow slope, brimmed twilit pools below,
Hushed trees, still vale dissolving in the dew,
Farewell. Farewell. There is no more to do.
We have been happy. Happy now I go.
Shrapnel comprised steel balls ejected from shells upon detonation.
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