Neuve Chapelle, 1915
He looked ahead and smiled, and then looked back
On his past years, nor wished them here again,
But rather, glancing o’er their tangled skein
Sought the white threads as though there were no black
That vainly mocked him. Clearly at his beack
He marshalled his misfortunes; once again
He greeted them, despite his present pain.
That could not stretch his spirit on its rack.
It is the lot of some to keep a friend
Lifelong, and sharing with him young endeavour,
Take the last fence ‘longside him at the end,
Well-tried companions, who no fate may sever,
And though for six short months I knew my friend,
My heart shall keep his memory for ever.