We meet in an
evil land

We meet in an evil land
That is near to the gates of Hell. 
I wait for thy command
To serve, to speed or withstand.
And thou sayest I do not well?

Oh, Love, the flowers so red 
Are only tongues of flame, 
The earth is full of the dead, 
The new-killed, restless dead.
There is danger beneath and o'erhead, 
And I guard thy gates in fear
Of words thou canst not hear,
Of peril and jeopardy,
Of signs thou canst not see—
And thou sayest 'tis ill that I came?

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