Posted by: W. E. Poplaski | October 11, 2009


by Scudder Middleton (1888 – 1959).

The Return

Just as a mother long ago
Held her sweet child at last, so we
Hold Life again within our arms
And lean to kiss him tenderly.

Life has come back into our hearts.
To us who bound the brow of Death
With too much laurel and who praised
Too much the going out of breath—
He has come back!

O we shall hold him safely now,
Poor hingry child upon whose head
Was laid the whip, to whom war gave
The bullet and the sword for bread.

He has come back!
Now shall we keep him in our hearts
And heal him by the music there.
We shall give War the truthful name
And snatch the roses from his hair.

We shall make songs and cities now,
Chart skies and tame the eastern fire,
And build an earthly Paradise
For him by engines of desire.


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