Requiem

[The writer of these striking lines is a girl of fifteen, who has recently lost her father and brother at the front.]

Bugle, wind out they solemn note of warning,

Salute the glorious dead, returned to clay and dust.

Bells, echo back the woeful sound of mourning,

Wail the last requiem on the wintry gust.

Wind, waft the story of their gallant fight

Back to the land they’ll never visit more

And in the gentle stillness of the night

Comfort the stricken hearts who wait upon the shore.

Rain, wash away the bloodstains from the brave,

Sink thru the soil, and make it fresh and sweet.

Sun, let thy beams chase shadows from their grave.

Guide them to heaven, their just reward to meet.

Flowers, sow thy seeds amid the blades of grass,

Bear on the breeze the herald scent of spring;

Moon, strive thine earlier beauty to surpass;

Birds, cheer their last long rest with your glad caroling.

Earth, receive them in thy last embrace,

For all thy children must return to thee.

They are the noblest of our island race;

In thy protecting arms their rest must be!

God, Who didst make them, bring them to their home,

Where no grim battle mars Thy perfect peace.

Grant them for ever in that peace to roam,

Where from all turmoil they may find release.

E. J. P.

To Master Robert Herrick: Upon His Death

Sweet Robin Herrick, friend

Who Death himself could gend

With song, until the end

When Death, poor dunderhead,

Grew tired of play, and said

You must be off to bed,

So sent you to your sleep,

So deep, so endless deep—

Why, if a child will weep

Who’s kist and sent away,

(Yet night itself’s half-play

And promise of next day)—

What Good-Night’s yours, alone

To depths of silence gone

And heard and seen of none?

-       Lionel Johnson[1]

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[1] Lionel Pigot Johnson was born at Broadstairs, Kent in 1867, the third son of an Irish army officer. He was educated at Winchester College, where he edited the student newspaper The Wykehamist from 1884 to 1886. He then went to Oxford, where he had a brilliant academic career. In 1890 he settled in London and began a career in journalism. The following year he converted to Catholicism. Though by nature a solitary person, he joined the Rhymers’ Club. Through the club, he introduced his cousin Lord Alfred Douglas to Oscar Wilde. He later regretted this move; it is thought that his 1892 Destroyer of a Soul is directed at Wilde. Johnson and Yeats, another club member, became fast friends. He encouraged Yeats to read Plato, and introduced him to his cousin Olivia Shakespear; Yeats and Shakespear had a love affair and remained friends throughout their lives. For his part, Yeats introduced Johnson to the Irish Literary Society; this bore fruit in Johnson’s first book of poetry, Ireland and Other Poems (1894). Johnson continued to write, edit, and compose poetry, but began to struggle with alcoholism. His work suffered. In 1902 he was killed when he fell off a barstool and hit his head. (Sources: Wikipedia; answers.com)