Winifred Mabel Letts Poems

I saw the spires of Oxford
As I was passing by,
The gray spires of Oxford
Against the pearl-gray sky.
...

There was a man, - don't mind his name,
Whom Fear had dogged by night and day.
He could not face the German guns
And so he turned and ran away.
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John Delaney of the Rifles has been shot.
A man we never knew,
Does it cloud the day for you
That he lies among the dead
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You gave your life. Boy.
And you gave a limb:
But he who gave his precious wits,
Say, what regard for him?
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To come at tulip time how wise!
Perhaps you will not now regret
The shining gardens, jewel set,
Of your first home in Paradise
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O jewel of my heart, I sing your praise,
Though you who are, alas! of middle age
Have never been to school, and cannot read
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IT'S in Connacht or in Munster that yourself might travel wide,
And be asking all the herds you'd meet along the countryside,
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They put the screens around his bed;
a crumpled heap I saw him lie,
White counterpane and rough dark head,
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I think if I lay dying in some land
Where Ireland is no more than just a name,
My soul would travel back to find that strand
From whence it came.
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There’s a woman sobs her heart out,
With her head against the door,
For the man that’s called to leave her,
— God have pity on the poor!
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