Beside a well-reap'd field at Eventide, <br />One laid him down to rest who'd wandered far, <br />And fought and wounded been in Life's great war. <br />'These have done well their work,' he said, and sigh'd, <br />'But on mine armour blots of earth remain; <br />Nor blood nor tears of mine have wash'd that stain.' <br />Then came a voice from heaven's blue depths profound, <br />Beyond the shining of the evening star, <br />And breathless awe thrill'd thro' him at the sound, <br />'I will make clean thine armour once again.' <br />Then down that weary soul devoutly kneel'd <br />And lifted from the dust glad tearful eyes, <br />Sweet sleep fell on him from the solemn skies, <br />And perfect peace upon the well-reap'd field.<br /><br />Frances Anne Kemble<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/beside-a-well-reap-d-field-at-eventide/
