Poems (Piatt)/Volume 2/The Story of a Shawl
THE STORY OF A SHAWL.[1879.]
My child, is it so strange, indeed,This tale of the Plague in the East, you read?—
This tale of how a soldier foundA gleaming shawl of silk, close-wound,
(And stained, perhaps, with two-fold red)About a dead man's careless head?
He took the treasure on his breastTo one he loved. We know the rest.
If Russia shudders near and far,From peasant's hut to throne of Czar:
If Germany bids an armed guardBy sun and moon keep watch and ward
Along her line, that they who flyFrom death, ah me! shall surely die:
This trouble for the world was allWrapped in that soldier's sweetheart's shawl.
———Pray God no other lovers bringSome gift as dread in rose or ring.