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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=579979" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Timor Mortis</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">'For he to-day that sheds his blood with me<br>Shall be my brother . . . . . <br>And gentlemen in England now abed<br>Shall think themselves accursed they were not here.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">King Henry V–Act IV, sc. 3 (King's speech prior to the battle of Agincourt).<br>I WEND my ways with one dire dread<br>Now daily in my heart:<br>The fear of death obsesses me–<br>The fear that I may pass<br>Too soon for my desiring eyes to see</div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The English camps, and for my feet to tread<br>The English green-sward grass;<br>That I, who've heard my God's, my King's, my Country's claims<br>And, though belated, have at length begun<br>A larger life of holier aims<br>Than was my wont, may suddenly depart<br>This shattered world to utter oblivion,<br>Ere I, in Christian chivalry,<br>With brave, devoted comrades dauntlessly have stood face to the foe<br>On Flanders' fatal fields and struck a single blow<br>For man's dear brotherhood and world-wide liberty,<br>Or ere, upon the blood-steeped slopes<br>Of France, I've met–mine eyes afront, my soul quite undismayed–<br>The Hunnish cannons' fearful fusilade<br>Or done my share to still the Hunnish hopes,<br>And thus to leave secure, ev'n if by my poor martyrdom,<br>A happier heritage to generations yet to come.<br>Dear God, oh, privilege me the fullest bloom<br>Of vital-strength, that I may pay the price<br>For my too selfish, easeful days; spare me to live<br>That I, if it should be Thy will, may sacrifice<br>The meagre all I now can give,<br>And, falling, lie obscurely laid within a nameless tomb.<br>Perchance, round where mine unknown grave may be,<br>Unshaded by Canadian maples, unsung by winds from my Acadian sea,<br>I shall in spirit-state revisit foreign slope or plain<br>On which I fell, and there aloft descry<br>The Flag of England still flaunting victory to the sky,<br>'Neath where the hellish holocaust once swept amain,<br>And I shall know I died not in dishonour nor in vain,<br>But that I may, at home, in peace, untried, yield up my breath–<br>This is my direst dread, my fear, of thee, O Death!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Daniel+Logan">John Daniel Logan</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=579979" data-title="Timor Mortis de John Daniel Logan" data-description="'For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother . . . . . 
And gentlemen in England now abed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here.'

King Henry V–Act IV, sc. 3 (King's speech prior to the battle of Agincourt).
I WEN..."></div>
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