As though dried straw, and if we turn about

The bare chimney is gone black out

Because the work had finished in that flare.

Soldier, scholar, horseman, he,

As 'twere all life's epitome.

What made us dream that he could comb grey hair?

12

I had thought, seeing how bitter is that wind

That shakes the shutter, to have brought to mind

[12]

All those that manhood tried, or childhood loved,

Or boyish intellect approved,

With some appropriate commentary on each;

Until imagination brought

A fitter welcome; but a thought

Of that late death took all my heart for speech.

[13]

[13]

AN IRISH AIRMAN FORESEES HIS DEATH

I know that I shall meet my fate

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