Ramparts of slaughter and peril-
Blazing, amazing, aglow-
'Twixt the sky-line's belting beryl
And the wine-dark flats below.
Royal the pageant closes,
Lit by the last of the sun-
Opal and ash-of-roses,
Cinnamon, umber, and dun.
The twilight swallows the thicket,
The starlight reveals the ridge.
The whistle shrills to the picket-
We are changing guard on the bridge.
(Few, forgotten and lonely,
Where the empty metals shine -
No, not combatants-only
Details guarding the line.)
We slip through the broken panel
Of fence by the ganger's shed;
We drop to the waterless channel
And the lean track overhead;
We stumble on refuse of rations,
The beef and the biscuit-tins;
We take our appointed stations,
And the endless night begins.
We hear the Hottentot herders
As the sheep click past to the fold-
And the click of the restless girders
As the steel contracts in the cold-
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INCLUSIVE EDITION, 1885-1918
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