APPENDIX A XLVII 



Canon Scott, the heroic chaplain, always in the thick of danger 

 and adored by the men, gives the following, among his "Poems written 

 at the Front." 



THE SILENT TOAST. 



"They stand with reverent faces, 



And their merriment give o'er, 

 As they drink the toast to the unseen host, 



Who have fought and gone before. 



It is only a passing moment. 



In the midst of the feast and song. 

 But it grips the breath, as the wing of death 



In a vision sweeps along. 



No more they see the banquet. 



And the brilliant lights around, 

 But they charge again on the hideous plain 



When the shell-bursts rip the ground. 



Or they creep at night, like panthers. 



Through the waste of No Man's Land, 

 Their hearts afire with a wild desire 



And death on every hand; 



And out of the roar and tumult, 



Or the black night loud with rain, 

 Some face comes back from the fiery track 



And looks in their eyes again. 



And the love that is passing woman's 



And the bonds that are forged by death 

 Now grip the soul with a strange control 



And speak what no man saith; 



The vision dies off in the stillness, 



Once more the tables shine. 

 But the eyes of all in the banquet hall 



Are lit with a light divine." 



Vimy Ridge, April, 1917. 



In "Requiescant" he sees the same "unseen host." 



"In lonely watches night by night. 

 Great visions burst upon my sight, 

 For down the stretches of the sky, 

 The hosts of dead go marching by. 



Strange ghostly banners o'er them float, 

 Strange bugles sound an awful note; 

 And all their faces and their eyes 

 Are lit with starlight from the skies." 



