More Songs by the Fighting Men
Knowledge
TALK not to me of knowledge, I would fain
Wander along life's dewy marge again,
Plucking the flowers a-drip with morning rain.
Within a drop of dew is sphered the world;
All mystery within a rose lies furled;
Tempests within a murmuring shell up-curled.
I sought for knowledge, and the shell is shattered.
I sought for knowledge, and the things that mattered—
The rose leaves and the dew—abroad are scattered.
Talk not to me of knowledge; she would tear
The lily-chalice and let out the rare
Communion wine that God has gathered there.
At Sunset: September, 1917
O LIVING beauty of the dying day!
All the ungathered splendour of the hours
Is folded in your heart, as all the wealth
Of June lies perfect in a crimson rose,
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