These Two

by Harriet Monroe

Harriet Monroe

They died these two &mdash
The little boys I knew &mdash
One at Gallipoli and one in France.
Long ago &mdash
Oh, twenty years or so &mdash
They used to romp and dance
Over the grass, under the trees.
One toddling brother
Had golden curls
Fine as a girl's,
And funny little round fat cheeks the other.
They liked me, used to climb
Into my lap, and tease
For stories before bed-time, tugging close
With little arms and knees
It seems too short a time
For these two to grow tall
Of body and soul,
Grow into men, and hear the iron call,
and give their youth's bright hoard.
Brief was their story
As sunlight on a sword.





Last updated January 14, 2019