http://digital.lib.buffalo.edu/upimage/PCMS-0132_MC1_1_1.pdf

Media

Part of The Cenotaph, typed manuscript, circa 1919

Text

THE

CENOTAPH.

Not yet will those measureless fields be green again
Whereonly yesterday
the wild sweet bloodof wonderful youth was shed;
There,is
gravewhose earth
must
hold too long, too deep a stain,
Though for ever over it we may speak
as proudly as we maytread.
But here, wherethe watchers by lonely
hearthsfrom
theth thrustof an inward sword have more slowly bled,
We
shall
build the Cenotaph: Victory, winged,with
Peace,
wingedtoo, at the column's head.
And over the stairway, at the foot - oh! here,
leave desolate,
passionate hands to spread
Violets, roses and laurel,
with
small sweet twinklingcountry things
Speaking
so wistfully of other Springs
From the little gardens
of little
places where
son or sweetheart
was
b orn and bred.
In splendid sleep with
a thousandbrothers
To lovers - to mothers
Here too, lies he.
Under the purple,the green, the red,
It is all young l i f e :it must break some
to see
women's
hearts
such a brave, gay coverlet to such a bed!
Only, when all is done and said

God is not mocked and neither are the dead.

For this will stand in our
Market-place
Who'll sell, who'll
buy
( Will you
or I
Lie
each to each with the better grace?
looking into every busy whore's and huckster's
While

or

Miss
C. Mew,

9, Gordon Street,
Gordon Square,
London,
W.C.1.

As they drive their bargains, is the Face
some young, piteous, murdered
face.

God: and

i

Reproductions from the Charlotte Mew Digital Collection are provided courtesy of the
University at Buffalo Libraries.

Preferred Citation:
[Title], Digital Collections - University at Buffalo Libraries, accessed [date accessed], [URL].