Eleanor Cecilia Donnelly,
Pieces People Ask For
(1909)
“ Where the May-buds sprinkle the green old sward, And the winds and the birds and the limpid brook Murmur their dreams with a drowsy sound, Who lies so still in the plushy moss, With his pale cheek pressed on a breezy pillow, Couched where the light and shadows cross, Through the flickering fringe of the willow,— Who lies, alas! So still, so chill, in the whispering grass? A soldier, clad in a Zouave dress, A bright-haired man, with his lips apart ”
