In the Wilderness 



Oh, take away the sanction of the State, 



That haloes murder with a holy light, 



That makes our common hate seem Wrath Divine, 



And thunderous shoutings as the voice of God. 



Ill 



I do remember in the far-off years 



Through the long twilight of the August nights 



(The nights of half a century ago), 



I waited for my brother whom I loved, 



I waited for my brother, and he came, 



Came but in dreams and never came again, 



For he was with the Sisterhood of Fate 



Man is; Man is not; Man shall never be. 



IV 



How like a chasm yawns our history! 



Still figures pour out from the Poisoned Wood; 



I seem to see them on their fated way, 



I seem to see them creep from death to death, 



Full seven miles of crushed and wasted men, 



Full seven miles of tattered shreds of men, 



Some dazed with blood, not knowing what they do, 



Rising to fall, and falling not to rise. 



Whither they go What matter? They must go! 



If there be ghosts, they hover o'er this road; 

 If they be ghosts, they fill this Poisoned Wood! 



Perchance no spirits wander of the slain, 

 For these are sleeping in the woodland glade, 

 The Blue for aye unsevered from the Gray. 

 Under that Flag where Hatred dies away 

 They rest as men may rest whose work is done, 

 The Horror lost in blest forgetfulness. 

 For they are with the Sisterhood of Fate 

 Man is; Man is not; Man shall never be. 



Yet there be ghosts here, ghosts that haunt for aye! 



Rising forever from the Poisoned Wood, 



The Slain Unnumbered; those who, still unborn, 



C 797 3 



