LIKE some bright arrow from the bending bow

Of Valour's day, the light has sped beneath

The parapet of earth. Now shadows flow

Over the wake of turmoil. I would life

Be as their salve for wearied eyes, to latch

Those eyelids softly for his quiet sleep :

Valiant and twofold the part played in that match,—

Light feet of a boy, a man in thew and sweep.

There is such quiet rhythm for his night,

And deep slow breathing for a wide expanse

Of an athlete's chest, fair, true-moulded in might.

Stars of eternal youth in yonder sky

Unseal his ears to a hush-blight eloquence,

Spread through his limbs a dream felicity.