If I Should Never See the Moon Again

By Major Malcolm Boyd


If I should never see the moon again

Rising red gold across the harvest field

Or feel the stinging soft rain

As the brown earth her treasures yield.

If I should never taste the salt sea spray

As the ship beats her course across the breeze.

Or smell the dog-rose and new-mown hay,

or moss or primroses beneath the tree.

If I should never hear the thrushes wake

Long before the sunrise in the glimmering dawn.

Or watch the huge Atlantic rollers break

Against the rugged cliffs in baffling scorn.

If I have to say good bye to stream and wood,

To wide ocean and the green clad hill,

I know that he, who made this world so good

Has somewhere made a heaven better still.

This bears witness with my latest breath

Knowing the love of God,

I fear no death.

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