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1861–1923

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Maurice Henry Hewlett

I serv'd my love, when he came home, His meal; then on his knee I told him what I might become, And he kiss'd me;

Then said, “Indeed, there may be need Of this little one, For many a woman's heart must bleed For wanting of a son.

“Since we awoke, the word is spoke, And if‘ tis still right That English folk keep faith unbroke, Then must England fight.”

I could not look, nor think, nor ask What himself would do, But call'd to task my pride, to bask In what had warm'd me thro’.

Oh, he was grave and self-possest Under love's new crown! He took me in his arms to rest, And lay my head down

A moment on his shoulder; then Went steady to his work. I knew what fate soe'er call'd men He was none to shirk.

Now I must play the helpful wife, And my new pride Be little worth to ease the strife That vext me in the side;

For like a green and aching wound, Like a throbbing vein I felt this terror on the ground Of young men slain.

The swooning summer sun sank low, And all the dusty air Held breathlessly beneath his glow, So tir'd, so quiet and fair,

I would not think that men could live In such glory a minute, To hate and grudge, to slay and reive Poor souls within it.

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