Contents -BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD

Bliss Carman, et al., eds. The World’s Best Poetry. 1904.

III. War

By the Alma River

Dinah Maria Mulock Craik (1826–1887)

WILLIE, fold your little hands;

Let it drop,—that “soldier” toy;

Look where father’s picture stands,—

Father, that here kissed his boy

Not a mouth since,—father kind,

Who this night may (never mind

Mother’s sob, my Willie dear)

Cry out loud that He may hear

Who is God of battles,—cry,

“God keep father safe this day

By the Alma River!”

Ask no more, child. Never heed

Either Russ, or Frank, or Turk;

Right of nations, trampled creed,

Chance-poised victory’s bloody work;

Any flag i’ the wind may roll

On thy heights, Sevastopol!

Willie, all to you and me

Is that spot, whate’er it be,

Where he stands—no other word—

Stands—God sure the child’s prayers heard—

Near the Alma River.

Willie, listen to the bells

Ringing in the town to-day;

That ’s for victory. No knell swells

For the many swept away,—

Hundreds, thousands. Let us weep,

We, who need not,—just to keep

Reason clear in thought and brain

Till the morning comes again;

Till the third dread morning tell

Who they were that fought and—fell

By the Alma River.

Come, we ’ll lay us down, my child;

Poor the bed is,—poor and hard;

But thy father, far exiled,

Sleeps upon the open sward,

Dreaming of us two at home;

Or, beneath the starry dome,

Digs out trenches in the dark,

Where he buries—Willie, mark!—

Where he buries those who died

Fighting—fighting at his side—

By the Alma River.

Willie, Willie, go to sleep;

God will help us, O my boy!

He will make the dull hours creep

Faster, and send news of joy;

When I need not shrink to meet

Those great placards in the street,

That for weeks will ghastly stare

In some eyes—child, say that prayer

Once again,—a different one,—

Say, “O God! Thy will be done

By the Alma River.”