by Ivor Gurney
Pour out your light, O stars, and do not hold
Your loveliest shining from earth's outworn shell
Pure and cold your radiance - pure and cold
My dead friends face as well.
Pour out your bounty moon of radiant shining
On all this shattered flesh, on all these quiet forms;
For these were slain, so quiet still reclining
In the noblest cause was ever waged with arms.
Last updated July 01, 2015