The Oldest Drama Poem by John McCrae

The Oldest Drama

Rating: 3.4

"It fell on a day, that he went out to his father to the reapers.
And he said unto his father, My head, my head. And he said to a lad,
Carry him to his mother. And . . . he sat on her knees till noon,
and then died. And she went up, and laid him on the bed. . . .
And shut the door upon him and went out."

Immortal story that no mother's heart
Ev'n yet can read, nor feel the biting pain
That rent her soul! Immortal not by art
Which makes a long past sorrow sting again

Like grief of yesterday: but since it said
In simplest word the truth which all may see,
Where any mother sobs above her dead
And plays anew the silent tragedy.

Dorothy 29 November 2017

please respond to about the poem, The Pilgrims I told you about. Thanks.

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Dorothy 29 November 2017

The poem The Pilgrims I can't find it. It starts out: Through the snow and cold the pilgrims went. With courage high and hearts content. I'm offering a reward to anyone who can find this poem.

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John McCrae

John McCrae

Guelph, Ontario
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