THE HON. EVAN MORGAN
2nd Lieut., Welsh Guards
What of the Dead?
IF in the repose of an arbour
Under a western sky
One dreams of a vast eternal
And one questions the reason why;
Why joy should dissolve into sorrow,
Why pearls should melt in the wine,
And whether the new dawning morrow
Will reckon the close of our time?
If in the repose of the arbour
One gazes on nature around,
Is there some definite answer
In the earth or the sky to be found?
Are we the pawns of a Jevah
That move on a cross-chequered board?
Propelled from the back by a lever,
Controlled, supervised by a Lord?
Given a pen as a plaything
To scribble out poems and plays—
Works that we worship with reverence,
The blossoms of earlier days—
Given a spirit of reason,
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