Page:Patriotic pieces from the Great War, Jones, 1918.djvu/194

That isn't brave, that isn't French!" At last
She led her frightened brood across the way
To where there stood a roadside Calvary
Bearing its sad indomitable Christ—
Strange how the shells will spare just that! I saw
So many ... There they knelt, poor innocents,
Hands folded and eyes closed. I stole across
And stood behind them. "We must say our prayer—
Our Father which art in heaven," she began,
And all the little sobbing voices piped,
"Hallowed be Thy Name." From down the road
The Belgian soldier had come near. I felt
Him standing there beside me in the dusk.
"Thy kingdom come—
"Thy will be done on earth
As it is In heaven." The irony of it
Cut me like steel. I barely kept an oath
Behind my teeth. If one could name this earth
In the same breath with heaven—what is hell?
Only a little child could pray like this.
"Give us this day our daily bread—" A pause.
There was no answer. She repeated it

Urgently. Still the hush. She opened wide