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A poem by Edith Nesbit

To Her: In Time Of War

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Title:     To Her: In Time Of War
Author: Edith Nesbit [More Titles by Nesbit]

Once I made for you songs,
Rondels, triolets, sonnets;
Verse that my love deemed due,
Verse that your love found fair.
Now the wide wings of war
Hang, like a hawk's, over England,
Shadowing meadows and groves;
And the birds and the lovers are mute.

Yet there's a thing to say
Before I go into battle,
Not now a poet's word
But a man's word to his mate:
Dear, if I come back never,
Be it your pride that we gave
The hope of our hearts, each other,
For the sake of the Hope of the World.

1915.




[The end]
Edith Nesbit's poem: To Her: In Time Of War

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