2 min read
Слушать(AI)Equality
I saw a King, who spent his life to weave Into a nation all his great heart thought,
Unsatisfied until he should achieve The grand ideal that his manhood sought;
Yet as he saw the end within his reach,
Death took the sceptre from his failing hand,
And all men said, "He gave his life to teach The task of honour to a sordid land!"Within his gates I saw, through all those years,
One at his humble toil with cheery face,
Whom (being dead) the children, half in tears,
Remembered oft, and missed him from his place.
If he be greater that his people
Than he the children loved,
God knoweth best.
John McCrae
Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (November 30, 1872 – January 28, 1918) was a Canadian poet, physician, author, artist and soldier during Worl
Comments
You need to be signed in to write comments
Other author posts
The Shadow Of The Cross
At the drowsy dusk when the shadows From the golden west, where the sunbeams sleep, An angel mused: Is there good or In the mad world's heart, since on Calvary's hill'Round the cross a mid-day twilight
The Pilgrims
An uphill path, sun-gleams between the showers, Where every beam that broke the leaden Lit other hills with fairer ways than ours; Some clustered graves where half our memories lie;
Mine Host
There stands a hostel by a travelled way; Life is the road and Death the worthy host; Each guest he greets, nor ever lacks to say, How have ye fared They answer him, the most,This lodging place is other than we so...
The Anxious Dead
O guns, fall silent till the dead men hear Above their heads the legions pressing on:(These fought their fight in time of bitter fear, And died not knowing how the day had gone )O flashing muzzles, pause, and let them see The coming dawn...