We shall not shiver as we vainly try
To stir cold ashes once again to fire,
Nor bury a dead passion, you and I.
The wind that weds a moment sea and sky
In one exultant storm and passes by,
Was our desire.
Red Cross Work
(Or the vigilantes)
Interminable folds of gauze
For those whom we shall never see....
Remember, when your fingers pause,
That every drop of blood to stain
Their whiteness, falls for you and me,
Part of the price that keeps us free
To serve our own, that keeps us clean
For shame that other women know....
O, saviours we have never seen,
Forgive us that we are so slow!
God—if that blood should cry in vain,
And we have let our moments go!