Arachne. No. 2
So long ago, in tears, she turned
To watch, on that radiant autumn day,
When it seemed that Europe smoked and burned,
And the Guards began to march away.
She stood by Chelsea Barracks, and her tears,
Her filmy hat, like a perching butterfly,
Her eager shyness, who would heed, when cheers
Stormed up to heaven for those who marched to die?
Unknown she came, and she disappeared unknown,
And what she has meant to me who shall say?
But, with the Coldstream marching, time has flown,
And her world and my world passed away.