His Letter
Beyond the steel and the fire
Gleams the old desire.
Gleams the old desire.
War has not taken wonder away.
More poignant where its lightnings play
The appeal of beauty’s lonely cry!
I shall go dreaming till I die.
I see wind-burnished coin-bright towns,
And roads that shine across the downs;
A dusk of forest and a line
Of light that silvers the design;
Always the shadowed and the bright,
A halo for the blackest night!
— Islands where I have never been;
The rainbow toppling down the green
Of tilted seas that rake a ship;
More poignant where its lightnings play
The appeal of beauty’s lonely cry!
I shall go dreaming till I die.
I see wind-burnished coin-bright towns,
And roads that shine across the downs;
A dusk of forest and a line
Of light that silvers the design;
Always the shadowed and the bright,
A halo for the blackest night!
— Islands where I have never been;
The rainbow toppling down the green
Of tilted seas that rake a ship;
The molten lava-streams that slip
From fiery crater-rims and fill
The dark with rose and daffodil;
Lakes mountain-hid and spiritual;
The undiscovered waterfall
Like a white feather through the trees,
The undiscovered bird in these
Singing, always alone, alone,
The lovely voice of the unknown —
This is Romance chameleon-clad
That called me when I was a lad.
That calls me now to follow well
Through blighted Picardy to hell,
Through hell to some elusive bliss
Of new adventure after this;
To follow without asking why!
So you will know, if I must die
Upon this last and strangest quest,
It did not differ from the rest
In simple wonder dark and bright,
A halo for the blackest night:
And freedom like the unknown bird
Was a wild voice I had not heard,
Was a pure voice I fought to hear!
These words to you, my very dear,
From fiery crater-rims and fill
The dark with rose and daffodil;
Lakes mountain-hid and spiritual;
The undiscovered waterfall
Like a white feather through the trees,
The undiscovered bird in these
Singing, always alone, alone,
The lovely voice of the unknown —
This is Romance chameleon-clad
That called me when I was a lad.
That calls me now to follow well
Through blighted Picardy to hell,
Through hell to some elusive bliss
Of new adventure after this;
To follow without asking why!
So you will know, if I must die
Upon this last and strangest quest,
It did not differ from the rest
In simple wonder dark and bright,
A halo for the blackest night:
And freedom like the unknown bird
Was a wild voice I had not heard,
Was a pure voice I fought to hear!
These words to you, my very dear,
Beyond the steel and the fire
Gleams the old desire.
Gleams the old desire.