(After Gueudecourt)
Break we the bread once more,
The cup we pass around-
No, rather let us pour
This wine upon the ground;
And on the salver lay
The bread-there to remain.
Perhaps, some other day,
Shrovetide will come again.
Blurred is the rubric now,
And shadowy the token,
When blood is on the brow,
And the frail body broken.
(Edwin John Pratt)
More Poetry from Edwin John Pratt:
- The Truant (Edwin John Pratt Poems)
- The Ice-Floes (Edwin John Pratt Poems)
- The Supreme Test (Edwin John Pratt Poems)
- The Midnight Revels As Observed By The Shades (Edwin John Pratt Poems)
- The Witches' Brew (Edwin John Pratt Poems)
- Other Ingredients (Edwin John Pratt Poems)