Clement Wood

(1888-1950 / United States)

Wide Haven

Tired of man's futile, petty cry,
   Of lips that lie and flout,
I saw the slow sun dim and die
   And the slim dusk slip out . . .
   Life held no room for doubt.

What though Death claim the ones I prize
   In War's insane crusade,
Last night I saw Orion rise

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