The poem
. . . So I walked among the willows very quietly all night; There was no moon at all, at all; no timid star alight; There was no light at all, at all; I wint from tree to tree, And I called him as his mother called, but he nivver answered me.
Oh I called him all the night-time, as I walked the wood alone; And I listened and I listened, but I nivver heard a moan; Then I found him at the dawnin', when the sorry sky was red: I was lookin' for the livin', but I only found the dead.
Sure I know that it was Shamus by the silver cross he wore; But the bugles they were callin', and I heard the cannon roar. Oh I had no time to tarry, so I said a little prayer, And I clasped his hands together, and I left him lyin' there.
Now the birds are singin', singin', and I'm home in Donegal, And it's Springtime, and I'm thinkin' that I only dreamed it all; I dreamed about that evil wood, all crowded with its dead, Where I knelt beside me brother when the battle-dawn was red.
Where I prayed beside me brother ere I wint to fight anew: Such dreams as these are evil dreams; I can't believe it's true. Where all is love and laughter, sure it's hard to think of loss . . . But mother's sayin' nothin', and she clasps -- a silver cross.
I learnt this Service poem 20 years ago. I wrote the following in emulation this year. I looked across the desert sand Endless and still and bare. I drove through camps, and plains and hills, But I found no comfort there. I found him in the burning Jeep His skin all blistered and red. I was looking for the living But I only found the dead. Sure I know that it was Andy By the silver chain he wore. But the causalities…
Read the whole commentI learnt this Service poem 20 years ago. I wrote the following in emulation this year.
I looked across the desert sand
Endless and still and bare.
I drove through camps, and plains and hills,
But I found no comfort there.
I found him in the burning Jeep
His skin all blistered and red.
I was looking for the living
But I only found the dead.
Sure I know that it was Andy
By the silver chain he wore.
But the causalities were screaming,
And I heard the fighters roar,
And the NCOs were shouting,
So I called on God by name,
Then I touched his cheek so gently
And I left him to the flame.
But now the weather’s cooler
And it’s England I see.
And we’re all so glad it’s over
In our lust for victory.
Oh we’re all so glad it’s over
In that hateful heathen land,
Where my tears fell for my brother
Onto baking desert sand.
Where my tears fell for my brother
And the acrid smoke blew high.
I must not dream these evil thoughts.
I must not question why.
While my mother’s gently chatting
With eyes so full of pain,
And my father’s saying nothing
And he clasps….
A silver chain.