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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=428739" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Vision</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">An average man was Private Flynn,<br>Good stuff for soldiering, no doubt;<br>Troublesome when the drink was in,<br>A quiet lad when it was out.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Too fond of gaming and the girls,<br>And given to 'language' that would fright<br>His mother dreaming of his curls<br>And his soft boyish ways at night.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He had forgotten how to pray<br>The way she taught him at her knees.<br>Her prayers ran like a river all day,<br>And while she slept gave little ease.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Calvary, by Souchez, holds<br>Wide arms to clasp the new-made beds,<br>Where lie, nor toss their browns and golds,<br>The precious, the beloved heads.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Flynn's Captain, who had proved a friend<br>At times a friend is needed most,<br>Slept there, and comfort was at end<br>Because Flynn's faithful friend was lost.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Gassed.' O'er that twisted grace and dumb,<br>Flynn swore a choking oath to give<br>No quarter when the day should come<br>And fed his hate to thrive and live.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Lest that his Captain feel forgot,<br>At night when all the trenches slept,<br>Flynn tended like a garden plot<br>The grave o'er which the night-dews wept.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He raised a little cross of sticks,<br>Pansies, forget-me-nots, amid;<br>Over him the gaunt Crucifix<br>Shed comfort -- or he thought it did.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Rank disobedience! No one knew<br>How Flynn, so devil-may-care and brave,<br>Courted destruction just to do<br>A little gardening on a grave.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">One night the shells lit all the dark,<br>Burst in a million splinters of flame;<br>At morn, before the singing lark,<br>Flynn to his tender office came.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He smoothed the clay where it was rough,<br>With his hard tender hand he drew<br>As 'twere a quilt of silken stuff<br>Between the sleeper and the dew.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">All done, he stretched his six foot four,<br>And yawning, in the dawn's pale glow,<br>Bent to the Crucifix once more,<br>Saluted ere he turned to go.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then here's the marvel -- the dead Christ<br>Opened His Eyes, the very Eyes<br>That Mary loved, which through a mist<br>The saved souls see in Paradise.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Flynn, like Elijah, caught to Heaven!<br>Plain Private Flynn -- saw God revealed!<br>Unto a simple soldier given<br>The secret heart of Heaven unsealed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Could he go back to common joys<br>After the joys of Heaven were won?<br>The quietness was rent with noise,<br>The death sprang from the hidden gun.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They shot Flynn's eyes out. That was good.<br>Eyes that saw God are better blind.<br>Flynn muses on beatitude,<br>His empty eye-sockets behind.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In a bare London hospital ward<br>He smiles and prays the live-long day.<br>He who has seen the living Lord<br>Has Light upon the darkest way.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Katharine+Tynan">Katharine Tynan</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=428739" data-title="The Vision de Katharine Tynan" data-description="An average man was Private Flynn,
Good stuff for soldiering, no doubt;
Troublesome when the drink was in,
A quiet lad when it was out.

Too fond of gaming and the girls,
And given to 'language' that would fright
His mother dreaming of his curls
An..."></div>
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