(In Memoriam E.T.)
In the last letter that I had from France
You thanked me for the silver Easter egg
Which I had hidden in the box of apples
You liked to munch beyond all other fruit.
You found the egg the Monday before Easter,
And said, ‘I will praise Easter Monday now-
It was such a lovely morning’. Then you spoke
Of the coming battle and said, ‘This is the eve.
Goodbye. And may I have a letter soon.’
That Easter Monday was a day for praise,
It was such a lovely morning. In our garden
We sowed our earliest seeds, and in the orchard
The apple-bud was ripe. It was the eve.
There are three letters that you will not get.
Eleanor Farjeon (1881 - 1965) England
The friend, killed at Arras, was the poet Edward Thomas. After Thomas's death in April 1917, Eleanor remained close to his wife, Helen. She later published much of their correspondence, and gave a definitive account of their relationship in 'Edward Thomas: The Last Four Years' (1958).
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