(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939 / County Dublin / Ireland)

A Thrush In The Trenches

Suddenly he sang across the trenches,
vivid in the fleeting hush
as a star-shell through the smashed black branches,
a more than English thrush.

Suddenly he sang, and those who listened
nor moved nor wondered, but
heard, all bewitched, the sweet unhastened
crystal Magnificat.

One crouched, a muddied rifle clasping,
and one filled grenade,
but little cared they, while he went lisping
the one cleat tune he had.

Paused horror, hate and Hell a moment,
(you could almost hear the sigh)
and still he sang to them, and so went
(suddenly) singing by.

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Comments (1)

Prayer for the son coupled with concern for wife is touching.