Was there love once? I have forgotten her. <br />Was there grief once? Grief yet is mine. <br />Other loves I have, men rough, but men who stir <br />More grief, more joy, than love of thee and thine. <br /> <br />Faces cheerful, full of whimsical mirth, <br />Lined by the wind, burned by the sun; <br />Bodies enraptured by the abounding earth, <br />As whose children we are brethern: one. <br /> <br />And any moment may descend hot death <br />To shatter limbs! Pulp, tear, blast <br />Belovèd soldiers who love rough life and breath <br />Not less for dying faithful to the last. <br /> <br />O the fading eyes, the grimed face turned bony, <br />Oped mouth gushing, fallen head, <br />Lessening pressure of a hand, shrunk, clammed and stony! <br />O sudden spasm, release of the dead! <br /> <br />Was there love once? I have forgotten her. <br />Was there grief once? Grief yet is mine. <br />O loved, living, dying, heroic soldier, <br />All, all my joy, my grief, my love, are thine.<br /><br />Robert Nichols<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/fulfilment/
