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John McCrae

The Pilgrims

An uphill path, sun-gleams between the showers,
    Where every beam that broke the leaden sky
Lit other hills with fairer ways than ours;
    Some clustered graves where half our memories lie;
And one grim Shadow creeping ever nigh:
                    And this was Life.

Wherein we did another's burden seek,
    The tired feet we helped upon the road,
The hand we gave the weary and the weak,
    The miles we lightened one another's load,
When, faint to falling, onward yet we strode:
                    This too was Life.

Till, at the upland, as we turned to go
    Amid fair meadows, dusky in the night,
The mists fell back upon the road below;
    Broke on our tired eyes the western light;
The very graves were for a moment bright:
                    And this was Death.

 
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About the poet
John McCrae
 
By the same poet
In Flanders Fields
The Anxious Dead
The Warrior
Isandlwana
The Unconquered Dead
The Captain
The Song of the Derelict
Quebec
Then and Now
Unsolved
The Hope of My Heart
Penance
Slumber Songs
The Oldest Drama
Recompense
Mine Host
Equality
Anarchy
Disarmament
The Dead Master
The Harvest of the Sea
The Dying of Pere Pierre
Eventide
Upon Watts' Picture "Sic Transit"
A Song of Comfort
The Shadow of the Cross
The Night Cometh
In Due Season
 
Related books
John McCrae at amazon.com


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