A Christmas Ghost-Story
South of the Line, inland from far Durban,A mouldering soldier lies—your countryman.Awry and doubled up are his gray bones,And on the breeze his puzzled phantom moansNightly to clear Canopus: “I would knowBy whom and when the All-Earth-gladdening LawOf Peace, brought in by that Man Crucified,Was ruled to be inept, and set aside?And what of logic or of truth appearsIn tacking ‘Anno Domini’ to the years?Near twenty-hundred livened thus have hied,But tarries yet the Cause for which He died.”
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