Edward Lewis Davison

1989-1970 / Glasgow

The Grave

Neither at dawn nor evening
Though legions camp hereby
Shall braying trumpets arouse him
To hear their battle cry.

All through a thousand years of sleep
No louder an alarm
Than the soft bells of downland sheep
Has rung to do him harm.

And even that noise the kindly grass
Has muffled and shut away
Forever, because the soldier fell
Dreaming he'd rise some day
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