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1861–1923

vii

Maurice Henry Hewlett

And all my years of farm-service There was no dismay, But men and maids knew nought amiss With their work or play;

But grew amain like tree or beast, Labouring out their lives Till sap and milk fill'd spine and breast, And ripen'd men and wives.

What call had we to think of war, We growing things? What need had we to reckon o'er Misdoubts or threatenings?

A soldier-lad in his red coat Show'd up then as he past Like a lamplighted fishing-boat Lonely in the vast.

An aeroplane in middle sky Might bring us to our doors, To see her like a dragon-fly Droning as she soars.

Long before you see her come You can hear her throbbing, Far, far away like a distant drum, Near, like a thresher sobbing.

Ah, in those days of wonderment, Wonder and delight, No thought we spent what murder meant, Horror in the night;

Or how a hidden dreadful plan Like a fingering weed Was growing up in the mind of man From a fungus-seed!

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vii · Maurice Henry Hewlett · Poetry Cove