The Teacher

A Cross is slanting ‘tween two withered trees - I saw him first in peace, amid a crowd Of streets, nor dreamed him ever one of these, So wistfully he mused, so shyly proud, So chalk-besmeared he walked his weary pace. A space went, - and on an early day Within the trench, I saw a half-known face Awake with wonder; a child-lived heart at play With dreamed romance: a Drake-keen eye ashine For newer worlds……A thunder tore the line!….. A shell burst!….. He smiled as Sidney smiled- And fell…..There came the crying of a child, …..A wave of little hands…..a soft breeze The cross is slanting ‘tween two withered trees.