[Vision2020] Rouge Bouquet - Joyce kilmer

[Wayne Price]

Rouge Bouquet

Joyce Kilmer (1886–1918)


IN a wood they call the Rouge Bouquet	
There is a new-made grave to-day,	
Built by never a spade nor pick	
Yet covered with earth ten metres thick.	
There lie many fighting men,	        5
   Dead in their youthful prime,	
Never to laugh nor love again	
   Nor taste the Summertime.	
For Death came flying through the air	
And stopped his flight at the dugout stair,	        10
Touched his prey and left them there,	
   Clay to clay.	
He hid their bodies stealthily	
In the soil of the land they fought to free	
   And fled away.	        15
Now over the grave abrupt and clear	
   Three volleys ring;	
And perhaps their brave young spirits hear	
   The bugle sing:	
“Go to sleep!	        20
Go to sleep!	
Slumber well where the shell screamed and fell.	
Let your rifles rest on the muddy floor,	
You will not need them any more.	
Danger’s past;	        25
Now at last,	
Go to sleep!”	

There is on earth no worthier grave	
To hold the bodies of the brave	
Than this place of pain and pride	        30
Where they nobly fought and nobly died.	
Never fear but in the skies	
Saints and angels stand	
Smiling with their holy eyes	
On this new-come band.	        35
St. Michael’s sword darts through the air	
And touches the aureole on his hair	
As he sees them stand saluting there,	
   His stalwart sons;	
And Patrick, Brigid, Columkill	        40
Rejoice that in veins of warriors still	
   The Gael’s blood runs.	
And up to Heaven’s doorway floats,	
   From the wood called Rouge Bouquet,	
A delicate cloud of buglenotes	        45
   That softly say:	
“Farewell!	
Farewell!	
Comrades true, born anew, peace to you!	
Your souls shall be where the heroes are	        50
And your memory shine like the morning-star.	
Brave and dear,	
Shield us here.	
Farewell!”	








On Jan 21, 2012, at 10:58 AM, lfalen wrote:

> Trees by Joyce Kilmer is one of my favorite poems. He wrote "Rouge  
> bouquet" three days before he was killed during the World War I  
> (1918). It waw written as a tribute to a group of his fellow  
> soldiers who were killed. He read it over there graves.
> After he was killed, it was read over his grave. I wanted to post it  
> here but do not have the skills to do so. Perhaps someone with the  
> request skills can do so.
> Roger
>
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