Catherine Wells

THERE was a time

When there was no war.

Deep I look into that pool of memory

And see the things I thought of then, the dreams I dreamed,

Like strange corals at the bottom of the sea—

Each, for being so far, so lost,

Shining with a beauty past its own.

They lie like jewels that have slipped into the ocean,

Unattainable and gone;

A moment of great sweetness, a day of great beauty, a dream, a longing, a happy chance.

Never shall I touch them again;

Never, I believe, shall I see their like again

In the dark horror of these days.