| George Herbert Clarke, ed. (1873–1953). A Treasury of War Poetry. 1917. |
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| 106. The Casualty Clearing Station |
| | | By Gilbert Waterhouse |
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| A BOWL of daffodils, | |
| A crimson-quilted bed, | |
| Sheets and pillows white as snow— | |
| White and gold and red— | |
| And sisters moving to and fro, | 5 |
| With soft and silent tread. | |
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| So all my spirit fills | |
| With pleasure infinite, | |
| And all the feathered wings of rest | |
| Seem flocking from the radiant West | 10 |
| To bear we thro’ the night. | |
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| See, how they close me in, | |
| They, and the sisters’ arms. | |
| One eye is closed, the other lid | |
| Is watching how my spirit slid | 15 |
| Toward some red-roofed farms, | |
| And having crept beneath them slept | |
| Secure from war’s alarms. | |
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