Charlotte Mew, "Absence"

Absence Sometimes I know the wayYou walk, up over the bay;It is a wind from that far seaThat blows the fragrance of your hair to me. Or in this garden when the breezeTouches my treesTo stir their dreaming shadows on the grassI see you pass. In sheltered beds, the heart of every roseSerenely sleeps to-night. […]

Charlotte Mew, "The Cenotaph"

The Cenotaph September 1919 Not yet will those measureless fields be green againWhere only yesterday the wild sweet blood of wonderful youth was shed;There is a grave whose earth must hold too long, too deep a stain,Though for ever over it we may speak as proudly as we may tread.But here, where the watchers by […]