I slumbered with your poems on my breast
Spread open as I dropped them half-read through
Like dove wings on a figure on a tomb
To see, if in a dream they brought of you,
I might not have the chance I missed in life
Through some delay, and call you to your face
First solider, and then poet, and then both,
Who died a soldier-poet of your race.
I meant, you meant, that nothing should remain
Unsaid between us, brother, and this remained–
And one thing more that was not then to say:
The Victory for what it lost and gained.
You went to meet the shell’s embrace of fire
On Vimy Ridge; and when you fell that day
The war seemed over more for you than me,
But now for me than you–the other way.
How ever, though, for even me who knew
The foe thrust back unsafe beyond the Rhine,
If I was not speak of it to you
And see you pleased once more with words of mine?
Frost lived in England briefly during his early years as a poet. There, he had a friend named Edward Thomas (E.T.), who was a poet, and who enlisted to fight in WW I. Thomas — who was a great friend and a promising young poet — died at Vimy in the fighting.
I love this poem! I read it hundreds of times and wasn’t sure why I liked it or what it meant even, now that I know I like it even more! It is sad though, I think that he must really have loved Edward Thomas (as a friend) to write such beautiful words about him.
The poem is great! But mabye a little bit sad if you think about it. I enjoy the way Robert Frost wrote it and I think everyone should read this poem!