The Constant Bridegrooms
Far down the purple wood
Coats of a company
Of silent soldiers
Flap idly in the wind
There they have stood
Since early day
Faces turned incuriously to the sound
Of the dry rustling
Of leaves in the wind
No command has reached
Them there
All silent have they stood
As
Though they were asleep
Now night darkens their coats
Far away
Their names are spoken
Somewhere at world’s end