Master and Maker, God of Right,
The soldier dead are at thy gate,
Who kept the spears of honor bright
And freedom's house inviolate.

--_John Drinkwater_.


_After-Days_.

When the last gun has long withheld
Its thunder, and its mouth is sealed,
Strong men shall drive the furrow straight
On some remembered battle-field.

Untroubled they shall hear the loud.
And gusty driving of the rains,
And birds with immemorial voice
Sing as of old in leafy lanes.

The stricken, tainted soil shall be
Again a flowery paradise--
Pure with the memory of the dead
And purer for their sacrifice.

--_Eric Chilman_.