He's gone, and all our plans <br />Are useless indeed. <br />We'll walk no more on Cotswolds <br />Where the sheep feed <br />Quietly and take no heed. <br /> <br />His body that was so quick <br />Is not as you <br />Knew it, on Severn River <br />Under the blue <br />Driving our small boat through. <br /> <br />You would not know him now… <br />But still he died <br />Nobly, so cover him over <br />With violets of pride <br />Purple from Severn side. <br /> <br />Cover him, cover him soon! <br />And with thick-set <br />Masses of memoried flowers- <br />Hide that red wet <br />Thing I must somehow forget.<br /><br />Ivor Gurney<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-his-love-2/
