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Edward Dyson - The One At Home
Work rating: Low

Don told me that he loved me dear 
   Where down the range Whioola pours; 
And when I laughed and would not hear 
   He flung away to fight the wars. 
He flung away—how should he know 
My foolish heart was dancin` so? 
How should he know that at his word 
My soul was trillin` like a bird? 

He went out in the cannon smoke. 
   He did not seek to ask me why. 
Again each day my poor heart broke 
   To see the careless post go by. 
I cared not for their Emperors— 
For me there was this in the wars; 
My brown boy in the shell-clouds dim, 
And savage devils killin` him! 

They told me on the field he fell, 
  And far they bore him from the fight, 
But he is whole—he will be well 
   Now in a ward by day and night 
A fair, tall nurse with slim, neat hands 
By his white bedside smilin` stands; 
His brow with trailin fingertips 
She soothes, and damps his fevered lips! 

I know her not, but I can see 
   How blue her great eyes are, and hear 
The cooin` of her voice as she 
   Speaks gentle comfort to my dear; 
With love as sweet as mother`s care 
She heals his wounds, she strokes his hair… 
O God, could I but let him see 
The hate of her consumin` me!
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