"The Poet of the Foreign Legion"
Lo! he is gone; star-crowned and clean of tears,
With Fame's immortal blossoms on his hair.
He met Death's kiss; tonight the fields are fair
In peace-lit Avalon where poets rest,
And he is latest guest.
Young Keats is with him -- silver fountains play
A tender threnody for men of earth
Whose eyes are sealed with darkness, and whose birth
Foreshadows pain and grief and deep despair,
Scatter ye roses -- skyey trophies bring,
And let the night be shattered with your cheers
For him whose sacrifice outlives the years;
The seeds of whose proud songs
Shall work to right Earth's federated wrongs,
By flowering to a mighty harvesting.
Song wed to Chivalry and twined with Love
Of Liberty that sheds a sacred flame,
Enshrines his mem'ry bright as stars above,
And glorifies his name.
NotesAlan Seeger, American soldier-poet, killed in action at Belloy-en-Santerre, France, July 4th, 1916.
R. A. L., ed. A Calendar of War Verse. : , 1918.