The Spike: or, Victoria University College Review, October 1917
To my friends who have Gone
To my friends who have Gone
You go your ways, the ways that open lie
To all the many, saving such as I
Who sit beside the hearth-light's fitful gleaming
And smoke the pipe of silence, dreaming, dreaming,
And watch the embers settle down and die.
Nor is it that I do not wish to fly
Chaste breast or quiet mind; that nunnery
Withholds me not, as ever onward streaming
You go your ways.
Strange lands and waters spread beneath a sky
That looks on deeds of wonder, I descry,
And then awake and find it was but seeming
And lost my ships of dream with wakes acreaming,
While, bugles ringing out and pennants high,
You go your ways.