| NOW light the candles; one; two; there’s a moth; | |
| What silly beggars they are to blunder in | |
| And scorch their wings with glory, liquid flame— | |
| No, no, not that,—it’s bad to think of war, | |
| When thoughts you’ve gagged all day come back to scare you; | 5 |
| And it’s been proved that soldiers don’t go mad | |
| Unless they lose control of ugly thoughts | |
| That drive them out to jabber among the trees. | |
| |
| Now light your pipe; look, what a steady hand. | |
| Draw a deep breath; stop thinking; count fifteen, | 10 |
And you’re as right as rain...
Why won’t it rain?... | |
| I wish there’d be a thunder-storm to-night, | |
| With bucketsful of water to sluice the dark, | |
| And make the roses hang their dripping heads. | |
| Books; what a jolly company they are, | 15 |
| Standing so quiet and patient on their shelves, | |
| Dressed in dim brown, and black, and white, and green, | |
| And every kind of colour. Which will you read? | |
| Come on; O do read something; they’re so wise. | |
| I tell you all the wisdom of the world | 20 |
| Is waiting for you on those shelves; and yet | |
| You sit and gnaw your nails, and let your pipe out, | |
| And listen to the silence: on the ceiling | |
| There’s one big, dizzy moth that bumps and flutters; | |
| And in the breathless air outside the house | 25 |
| The garden waits for something that delays. | |
| There must be crowds of ghosts among the trees,— | |
| Not people killed in battle,—they’re in France,— | |
| But horrible shapes in shrouds—old men who died | |
| Slow, natural deaths,—old men with ugly souls, | 30 |
Who wore their bodies out with nasty sins.
. . . . | |
| You’re quiet and peaceful, summering safe at home; | |
| You’d never think there was a bloody war on!... | |
| O yes, you would ... why, you can hear the guns. | |
| Hark! Thud, thud, thud,—quite soft ... they never cease— | 35 |
| Those whispering guns—O Christ, I want to go out | |
| And screech at them to stop—I’m going crazy; | |
| I’m going stark, staring mad because of the guns. | |
