To a Friend -- Killed in Action.
I fain would weep, and yet my eyes are dry;
My lips are dumb, for fear lest they should speak
The hasty word, and in reproaches seek
Revolt from God's decree that you should die.
I know you would not ask me for my tears,
But rather have me face with courage calm
The lonely hours, and find some healing balm
To fill the emptiness of future years.
And so I pray for strength to bind my soul
With faith unconquerable and hope divine;
And from the grief and sorrow that are mine
Draw cleansing grace to make my being whole
Thus from your loss one friend at least shall gain
New life, to prove you have not died in vain.
H. B. Elliot, ed. Lest We Forget. London: Jarrold & Sons, 1915.