Shyly expectant, gazing up at Her,
They linger, Gaul and Briton, side by side:
Death they know well, for daily have they died,
Spending their boyhood ever bravelier;
They wait: here is not priest or chorister,
Birds skirt the stricken tower, terrified;
Desolate, empty, is the Eastertide,
Yet still they wait, watching the Babe and Her.
Broken, the Mother stoops: the brutish foe
Hurled with dull hate his bolts, and down
She swayed, Down, till she saw the toiling swarms below, —
Platoons, guns, transports, endlessly arrayed:
“Women are woe for them! let Me be theirs,
And comfort them, and hearken all their prayers.!”
George Hitchcock
(George Herbert Clarke)
More Poetry from George Herbert Clarke:
George Herbert Clarke Poems based on Topics: Prayers, Birds, Mothers, Woman, Death & DyingReaders Who Like This Poem Also Like:
Based on Topics: Death & Dying Poems, Birds Poems, Woman Poems, Prayers Poems, Mothers PoemsBased on Keywords: gaul, chorister, platoons, eastertide, bravelier, hitchcock