I have a rendezvous with
Death
At
some disputed barricade,
When
Spring comes back with rustling shade
And
apple blossoms fill the air--
I have a rendezvous with Death
When Spring brings back blue days and fair.
It may be he shall
take my hand,
And lead me into his
dark land,
And
close my eyes and
quench my breath--
It may be I shall pass him still.
I have a rendezvous with
Death
On some
scarred slope of
battered hill,
When
Spring comes round again
this year
And the first
meadow flowers appear.
God knows 'twere better to be deep
Pillowed in
silk and scented down,
Where
Love throbs out in
blissful sleep,
Pulse nigh and
pulse, and breath to breath,
Where hushed awakenings are dear . . .
But I've a rendezvous with Death
At
midnight in some flaming town,
When
Spring trips north again this year;
And I to my pledged word am true,
I shall not fail that rendezvous.
--
Alan Seeger, (1888-1916)