Chapter 12
Poem number 12 of 30 American Poems by Various. In Time of War, Medical Unit by Edgar Lee Masters. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Reading by Matt Perard. In Time of War, Medical Unit.
Even as I see and share with you in seeing the altar flame of your love's sacrifice, and even as I bear before the hour the vision, your little hands in hospital, in prison, laid upon broken bodies, dying eyes, so do I suffer for splendor of your being, which leads you from me, and in separation, lays on my breast the pain of memory. Over your hands I bend in silent adoration.
Dumb for fear of sorrow without end, asking for consolation. Out of the sacrament of our separation, and for some faithful word, acceptable and true, that I may know and keep the mystery, that in this separation I go forth with you, and you to the world's end remain with me. How may I justify the hope that rises, that I am giving you to a world of pain,
and am a part of your love's sacrifices? Is it so little if I see you not again? You will croon soldier Lance to sleep, even to the last sleep of all. But in this absence, as your love will keep your breast for me to comfort, if I fail, so I, though far away, shall kneel by you, if the last hour approaches to bedew your lips,
that from their infant wondering list of a heaven lost, I shall kiss down your eyes, and count the cost as mine, who gave you by the tragic giving, go forth with spirit to death, and to the living, bearing a solace in death. God has breathed on you his transfiguring breath. You are transfigured before me, and I bow my head,
and leave you in the light that lights your way, and shadows me, even now the hour is sped, and the hour we must obey. Look you, I will go, pray.
