| George Herbert Clarke, ed. (1873–1953). A Treasury of War Poetry. 1917. |
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| 138. A Cross in Flanders |
| | | By G. Rostrevor Hamilton |
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| IN the face of death, they say, he joked—he had no fear; | |
| His comrades, when they laid him in a Flanders grave, | |
| Wrote on a rough-hewn cross—a Calvary stood near— | |
| “Without a fear he gave | |
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| “His life, cheering his men, with laughter on his lips.” | 5 |
| So wrote they, mourning him. Yet was there only one | |
| Who fully understood his laughter, his gay quips, | |
| One only, she alone— | |
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| She who, not so long since, when love was new-confest, | |
| Herself toyed with light laughter while her eyes were dim, | 10 |
| And jested, while with reverence despite her jest | |
| She worshipped God and him. | |
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| She knew—O Love, O Death!—his soul had been at grips | |
| With the most solemn things. For she, was she not dear? | |
| Yes, he was brave, most brave, with laughter on his lips, | 15 |
| The braver for his fear! | |
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