May 1915

Let us remember Spring will come again

To the scorched, blackened woods, where the wounded trees

Wait with their old wise patience for the heavenly rain,

Sure of the sky: sure of the sea to send its healing breeze,

Sure of the sun, and even as to these

Surely the Spring, when God shall please,

Will come again like a divine surprise

To those who sit today with their great Dead, hands in their hands

Eyes in their eyes

At one with Love, at one with Grief: blind to the scattered things

And changing skies.