Laughs at dawn in tumbling brooks.

Yet, it’s certain, here he teaches

Outpost-schemes to groups of beeches.

And I’m sure, as here I stand,

That he shines through every land,

That he sings in every place

Where we’re thinking of his face.

#### V

Robert, there’s a war in France;

Everywhere men bang and blunder,

Sweat and swear and worship Chance,

Creep and blink through cannon thunder.

Rifles crack and bullets flick,

Sing and hum like hornet-swarms.

Bones are smashed and buried quick.

Yet, through stunning battle storms.

All the while I watch the spark

Lit to guide me; for I know

Dreams will triumph, though the dark

Scowls above me where I go.

You can hear me; you can mingle

Radiant folly with my jingle,

War’s a joke for me and you

While we know such dreams are true!

75