..
No good staring.
Time soon now ... home ... house on a sunny hill ...
Gone like a flickered page:
Time soon now ... zero ... will engage....
A sudden thrill--
'Fix bayonets!'
Gods! we have our fill
Of fear, hysteria, exultation, rage,
Rage to kill.
My heart burns hot, whiter and whiter,
Contracts tighter and tighter,
Until I stifle with the will
Long forged, now used
(Though utterly strained)--
O pounding heart,
Baffled, confused,
Heart panged, head singing, dizzily pained--
To do my part.
Blindness a moment. Sick.
There the men are!
Bayonets ready: click!
Time goes quick;
A stumbled prayer ... somehow a blazing star
In a blue night ... where?
Again prayer.
The tongue trips. Start:
How's time? Soon now. Two minutes or less.
The gun's fury mounting higher ...
Their utmost. I lift a silent hand. Unseen I bless
Those hearts will follow me.
And beautifully,
Now beautifully my will grips,
Soul calm and round and filmed and white!
A shout: 'Men, no such order as retire!'
I nod.
The whistle's 'twixt my lips ...
I catch
A wan, worn smile at me.
Dear men!
The pale wrist-watch ...
The quiet hand ticks on amid the din.
The guns again
Rise to a last fury, to a rage, a lust:
Kill! Pound! Kill! Pound! Pound!
Now comes the thrust!
My part ... dizziness ... will ... but trust
These men.
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