The Earth Turns South/Wide Haven

by Clement Richardson Wood

WIDE HAVEN

Tired of man's futile, petty cry,Of lips that lie and flout,I saw the slow sun dim and dieAnd the slim dusk slip out. . . .Life held no room for doubt.

What though Death claim the ones I prizeIn War's insane crusade,Last night I saw Orion riseAnd the great day-star fade,And I am not dismayed.