I'd walk or musing mend

My soul with lotus-memories

And hopes—without an end.

III

Or were I in Japan today,

Hiroshima should call

[Pg 14]

My heart—Hiroshima built round

Her ancient castle wall.

By the low flowering moat where sun

And silence ever fall

Into a swoon, I'd build again

Old days of Daimyo thrall.

Of charge and bloody countercharge,

When many a samurai

Fierce-panoplied fell at its pale,

Suppressing groan or cry;

Suppressing all but silent hates

That swept from eye to eye,

While lips smiled decorously on,

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