the archivist May 24, 2024
gray steel sword on ground during daytime

Sophie Jewett

When the last fight is lost, the last sword broken;
The last call sounded, the last order spoken;
When from the field where braver hearts lie sleeping,
Faint, and athirst, and blinded, I come creeping,
With not one waving shred of palm to bring you,
With not one splendid battle-song to sing you,
O Love, in my dishonor and defeat,
Your measureless compassion will be sweet.
Book cover of The Poems of Sophie Jewett, 1910 first edition
The Poems of Sophie Jewett amzn | lib | bookshop | google books

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