Explore "To Her: In Time of War" by Edith Nesbit on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
ONCE I made for you songs, / Rondels, triolets, sonnets; / Verse that my love deemed due, / Verse that your love found fair.
Now the wide wings of war / Hang, like a hawk's, over England, / Shadowing meadows and groves; / And the birds and the lovers are mute.
Yet there's a thing to say / Before I go into battle, / Not now a poet's word / But a man's word to his mate: / Dear, if I come back never, / Be it your pride that we gave / The hope of our hearts, each other, / For the sake of the Hope of the World.
1915.