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Sydney Thompson Dobell (Сидней Томпсон Добелл)


Good-Night In War-Time


   (To Alexander Smith)

The stars we saw arise are high above,
And yet our Evensong seems sung too soon.
Good-Night! I lay my hand-with such a love
As thou wert brother of my blood-upon
Thy shoulder, and methinks beneath the moon
Those sisters, Anglia and Caledon,
Lean towards each other. Aye, for Man is one;
We are a host ruled by one trumpet-call,
Where each, armed in his sort, makes as he may
The general motion. The well-tuned array
We see; yet to what victory in what wars
We see not; but like the revolving stars
Move on ourselves. The total march of all
Or men or stars God knows. Lord, lead us on! 



Sydney Thompson Dobell's other poems:
  1. Home In War-Time
  2. The Botanist's Vision
  3. A Musing On A Victory
  4. To James Y. Simpson
  5. The Gaberlunzie's Walk


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