9 November 2014

The Mess Table

H. Rex Freston, "The Mess Table," The Quest of Truth and Other Poems (Oxford: B. H. Blackwell, 1916), p. 38:
Sometimes, above the talk and wine
  That round the long white table flow,
There fall upon my startled ears,
  The voices that I used to know.

And looking round the lighted room,
  Each in his own familiar chair,
With laughing eyes that greet my eyes,
  I see the dead men sitting there.

The dead men's faces glow and shine
  With jest and laughter as of old;
The dead men's voices come and go;
  And yet my heart is strangely cold.

For one long moment they remain:
  And then, as through a mist, I see
The new men sitting in the chairs,
  Where once the dead men used to be.
Freston was killed in action at La Boisselle, France on January 24, 1916.

A related post: Strange to Think