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A treasury of war poetry, British and American poems of the world war, 1914-1919/To My Daughter Betty, the Gift of God

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A treasury of war poetry, British and American poems of the world war, 1914-1919
edited by George Herbert Clarke
To My Daughter Betty, the Gift of God by Thomas Michael Kettle
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4554381A treasury of war poetry, British and American poems of the world war, 1914-1919 — To My Daughter Betty, the Gift of GodThomas Michael Kettle
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TO MY DAUGHTER BETTY, THE GIFT OF GOD

(Elizabeth Dorothy)

IN wiser days, my darling rosebud, blown
To beauty proud as was your mother's prime,
In that desired, delayed, incredible time,
You'll ask why I abandoned you, my own,
And the dear heart that was your baby throne,
To dice with death. And oh! they'll give you rhyme
And reason: some will call the thing sublime,
And some decry it in a knowing tone.
So here, while the mad guns curse overhead,
And tired men sigh with mud for couch and floor,
Know that we fools, now with the foolish dead,
Died not for flag, nor King, nor Emperor,
But for a dream, born in a herdsman's shed,
And for the secret Scripture of the poor.

The Field, before
Guillemont, Somme,
September 4, 1916.

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