Andrew Macphail, comp. The Book of Sorrow. 1916.
In Love with Easeful DeathMary E. Fletcher
‘I
Too well I love this friendly sky,
The sunrise and the sunset hour,
The winter storm and summer shower,
The hand-clasp and the glad surprise
Of welcome in a good friend’s eyes.
Of lying down among the dead,
The poor, white dead bereft of will,
Who lie so cold, so strangely still,
The while we break our hearts and pray
For one fond word of yesterday.
When they must leave the warmth and light,
With lagging step and looks behind
At toys beloved and faces kind,
Only half sure of God to keep
Strange terrors from them while they sleep.