SEA SPRAY ^ SMOKE DRIFT 



Life, 'tis said, to all men sweet is, 



Death to all must bitter be ; 

 Wherefore thus, oh, mother Thetis ? 



None can baffle Jove's decree; 

 I am ready, I am willing, 



To resign my stormy life ; 

 Weary of this long blood-spilling, 



Sated with this ceaseless strife. 



Shorter doom I've pictured dimly. 



On a bed of crimson sand ; 

 Fighting hard and dying grimly, 



Silent lips, and striking hand ; 

 But the toughest lives are brittle, 



And the bravest and the best 

 Lightly fall — it matters little ; 



Now, I only long for rest. 



I have seen enough of slaughter, 

 Seen Scamander's torrent red. 



Seen hot blood poured out like water, 

 Seen the champaign heap'd with dead. 



Men will call me unrelenting. 

 Pitiless, vindictive, stern ; 



Few will raise a voice dissenting, 



Few will better things discern. 

 4 



