Poem by Charles Hamilton Sorley

In Memoriam S. C. W., V.C.

There is no fitter end than this.
⁠     No need is now to yearn nor sigh.
We know the glory that is his,
⁠     A glory that can never die.

Surely we knew it long before,
⁠     Knew all along that he was made
For a swift radiant morning, for
⁠     A sacrificing swift night-shade. 

1. Marlborough
2. To Poets
3. Autumn Dawn
4. A Hundred Thousand Million Mites We Go
5. Rooks (There is such cry in all these birds)

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