A Cross is slanting -tween two withered trees -

I saw him first in peace, amid a crowd
Of streets, nor dreamed him ever one of these,
So wistfully he mused, so shyly proud,
So chalk-besmeared he walked his weary pace.
A space went, - and on an early day
Within the trench, I saw a half-known face
Awake with wonder; a child-lived heart at play
With dreamed romance: a Drake-keen eye ashine
For newer worlds......A thunder tore the line!.....
A shell burst!..... He smiled as Sidney smiled-
And fell.....There came the crying of a child,
.....A wave of little hands.....a soft breeze

The cross is slanting -tween two withered trees.