"Flowers, only flowers -- bring me dainty posies, br Blossoms for forgetfulness," that was all he said; br So we sacked our gardens, violets and roses, br Lilies white and bluebells laid we on his bed. br Soft his pale hands touched them, tenderly caressing; br Soft into his tired eyes came a little light; br Such a wistful love-look, gentle as a blessing; br There amid the flowers waited he the night. br br "I would have you raise me; I can see the West then: br I would see the sun set once before I go." br So he lay a-gazing, seemed to be at rest then, br Quiet as a spirit in the golden glow. br So he lay a-watching rosy castles crumbling, br Moats of blinding amber, bastions of flame, br Rugged rifts of opal, crimson turrets tumbling; br So he lay a-dreaming till the shadows came. br br "Open wide the window; there's a lark a-singing; br There's a glad lark singing in the evening sky. br How it's wild with rapture, radiantly winging: br Oh it's good to hear that when one has to die. br I am horror-haunted from the hell they found me; br I am battle-broken, all I want is rest. br Ah! It's good to die so, blossoms all around me, br And a kind lark singing in the golden West. br br "Flowers, song and sunshine, just one thing is wanting, br Just the happy laughter of a little child." br So we brought our dearest, Doris all-enchanting; br Tenderly he kissed her; radiant he smiled. br "In the golden peace-time you will tell the story br How for you and yours, sweet, bitter deaths were ours. . . . br God bless little children!" So he passed to glory, br So we left him sleeping, still amid the flow'rs.