The Ghosts of No Mans Land
The Ghosts of No Mans Land: Rhymes of a Red Cross Man
by Robert W. Service
Published by Diggory Press USA, February 2007, ISBN 978-1846856051
Note this item is published and distributed in the USA and is strictly not for sale or distribution in the UK.
Some wonderful, vivid poetry from the First World War. Excerpt from the poem The Mourners:
I look across the aching womb of night;
I look across the mist that masks the dead;
The moon is tired and gives but little light,
The stars have gone to bed.
The earth is sick and seems to breathe with pain;
A lost wind whimpers in a mangled tree;
I do not see the foul, corpse-cluttered plain,
The dead I do not see.
The slain I would not see . . . and so I lift
My eyes from out the shambles where they lie;
When lo! a million woman-faces drift
Like pale leaves through the sky.
The cheeks of some are channelled deep with tears;
But some are tearless, with wild eyes that stare
Into the shadow of the coming years
Of fathomless despair
And some are young, and some are very old;
And some are rich, some poor beyond belief;
Yet all are strangely like, set in the mould
Of everlasting grief.
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