George Edward Woodberry

(1855-1930 / United States)

Comrades Poem by George Edward Woodberry


Where are the friends that I knew in my Maying,
   In the days of my youth, in the first of my roaming?
We were dear; we were leal; O, far we went straying;
   Now never a heart to my heart comes homing! --
Where is he now, the dark boy slender
   Who taught me bare-back, stirrup and reins?
I loved him; he loved me; my beautiful, tender
   Tamer of horses on grass-grown plains.

Where is he now whose eyes swam brighter,
   Softer than love, in his turbulent charms;
Who taught me to strike, and to fall, dear fighter,
   And gathered me up in his boyhood arms;
Taught me the rifle, and with me went riding,
   Suppled my limbs to the horseman's war;
Where is he now, for whom my heart's biding,
   Biding, biding -- but he rides far!

O love that passes the love of woman!
   Who that hath felt it shall ever forget,
When the breath of life with a throb turns human,
   And a lad's heart is to a lad's heart set?
Ever, forever, lover and rover --
   They shall cling, nor each from other shall part
Till the reign of the stars in the heavens be over,
   And life is dust in each faithful heart!

They are dead, the American grasses under;
   There is no one now who presses my side;
By the African chotts I am riding asunder,
   And with great joy ride I the last great ride.
I am fey; I am fain of sudden dying;
   Thousands of miles there is no one near;
And my heart -- all the night it is crying, crying
   In the bosoms of dead lads darling-dear.

Hearts of my music -- them dark earth covers;
   Comrades to die, and to die for, were they;
In the width of the world there were no such rovers --
   Back to back, breast to breast, it was ours to stay;
And the highest on earth was the vow that we cherished,
   To spur forth from the crowd and come back never more,
And to ride in the track of great souls perished
   Till the nests of the lark shall roof us o'er.

Yet lingers a horseman on Altai highlands,
   Who hath joy of me, riding the Tartar glissade;
And one, far faring o'er orient islands
   Whose blood yet glints with my blade's accolade;
North, west, east, I fling you my last hallooing,
   Last love to the breasts where my own has bled;
Through the reach of the desert my soul leaps pursuing
   My star where it rises a Star of the Dead.

Submitted: Saturday, January 4, 2003

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Form:


Read poems about / on: star, joy, dark, heart, music, war, woman, beautiful, women, rose, swimming, horse, friend

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Comrades by George Edward Woodberry )

There is no comment submitted by members..

Famous Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  3. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  4. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. Caged Bird
    Maya Angelou
  8. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. A Dream Within A Dream
    Edgar Allan Poe
Trending Poets
Trending Poems
  1. Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
  2. If, Rudyard Kipling
  3. The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
  4. Dreams, Langston Hughes
  5. Good Morning My Love, craig moon
  6. Caged Bird, Maya Angelou
  7. Fire and Ice, Robert Frost
  8. If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, Robert Frost
  10. Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
[Hata Bildir]