I never thought that strange romantic WAR
Would shape my life and plan my destiny;
Though in my childhood’s dreams I’ve seen
⁠his car
And grisly steeds
Drown my black steeds flash grimly thwart
⁠the sky.
Yet now behold a vaster, mightier strife
Than echoed on the plains of sounding Troy,
Defeats and triumphs, death, wounds,
⁠laughter, life
All mingled in a strange complex alloy.
I view the panorama in a trance
Of awe, yet coloured with a secret joy;
For I have breathed in epic and
⁠romance,
Have lived the dreams that thrilled
⁠me as a boy!
How sound the ancient saying is forsooth!
How weak is Fancy's gloss of Fact’s
⁠stern truth!