Chapter XIV

Not an incident was missing
Of those school days long since fled,
Though so many of its members
Now were numbered with the dead.
And too swiftly passed the vision
Retrospective of the past,
And upon my soul its setting
Fleeting specks of sadness cast.

DECEMBER SIXTH, 1917.

I

It was a clear and cool December dawn,
And bright the Sun in all his glory rose
And shed his radiant rays in plenty on
The lovely arm which by our city flows,
And on the hills and dales and distant trees
By Nature robed in early winter mien:
All Labour was awake; the docks and quays
Were all astir and formed a busy scene;
The flag flung to the breeze o’er Citadel
Gave heart to all: last night the sentry cried,
As o’er his beat he trod, that all was well,
And old and young thought but of Christmas-tide.
“Lord God of Hosts,” what is that awful roar
Upon all ears rolls from the Richmond shore;

II

I’ll ever hear that death-portending sound
And see the dead as side by side they lie,
And see the desolation wrought around
And hear the dying’s dissolution cry;
And see the houses bursting into flame
And those within consumed in tongues of fire,
And that long line of young, and old, and lame
Move slowly on when ordered to retire
From their wrecked homes to seek some safe retreat.
With falt’ring step and slow and wearied gait;
And see the motor cars whirl down the street
Full laden with their bloody, human freight:
For not, till in my breast the spirit dies
Will these sad scenes evanish from my eyes.

III

And ever see the op’ning hour of school,
And hear the bell sound on the morning air,
And see each little one with reticule
And well-trained poise and step assembling there,
And each pale-faced teacher in her place
And all the children there on bended knees,
With innocence imprinted on each face,
And hear their prayer borne on the morning breeze,
And hear the glass and falling timbers crash,
And see the children through the windows leap
With blood fast flowing from each gaping gash
Upon their heads and faces, long and deep;
And fain am I to fall into despair
That scenes so sad should follow children’s prayer.